


the stars are alive

by Hoothootmotherf_ckers



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: #GetRenAGirlfriend2K18, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7, Families of Choice, Fate vs Free Will, Found Family, I love Refuge and I love my cryptic bjork grandma, Multi, Parlay, Refuge, Team as Family, Temporary Character Death, backstory typical angst?, child endangerment, fantasy physics, head up this shit's about to get existential, intercision, magnus's rushing in thing - but sad, reunion tour, taz/golden compass crossover, the crystal kingdom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-05-20 07:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 54,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoothootmotherf_ckers/pseuds/Hoothootmotherf_ckers
Summary: All Merle and his daemon wanted was to be free.Magnus has lost too much, he can't lose his daemon too.Taako didn’t have a daemon. He never had.---Starts off as your standard daemon au, and then things goreallyoff the rails. Can be understood with no prior knowledge ofThe Golden Compass.





	1. all up into the current

Merle never knew why his Solana could fly so far. Instead of mere feet, she’d once gone nearly two miles with no ill effects. They didn’t do that very much, though. If anyone saw they’d be either ostracized or studied, and they didn’t want either. They were perfectly happy being a little odd and living a peaceful, uninteresting life.

Magnus didn’t know how far Calariel could go from him. Most pairs tested that once or twice - how far can we go, how long can we stay there. However, they’d never tested it and didn’t want to. They could never really say why, though, could never explain the deep discomfort that settled in their chests at the thought. 

When Taako was a touring celebrity, there was a lot of speculation about what his elusive daemon was. Perhaps a snake, curled around his arm. Maybe a mouse in his shirt pocket. Nobody knew the truth, though, until it was revealed on that horrible day in Glamour Springs. 

Taako didn’t have a daemon. He never had. 

——

Merle’s life so far has been strange, yet boring. He grew up in a commune of Pan, worshipping the natural world. The commune focused heavily on human-daemon relationships, viewing daemons not just as a soul but as an innate connection to nature and Pan. It was a peaceful, happy life, with no dangers or uncertainties. And Merle and Solana hated it. They weren’t really big on religion, and viewed much of the commune’s beliefs as hippy-dippy bullshit. Not that they disliked nature! The two were happiest wandering the beaches, exploring the forests, losing themselves in the wilderness. They just hated how _seriously_ the commune took all of it, how tied down it made you. Which made Merle’s marriage to Hecuba an even more obvious mistake, in hindsight. Head in the clouds, disrespecting of authority Merle, marrying a woman he’d never met, settling down, and starting a family? For Pan’s sake, her daemon was a rat! Solana was an owl! Not that rats are necessarily bad daemons to have, it just says something about the success of a marriage when one person’s soul personified would happily _eat the other’s._

Merle spent years with Hecuba, in a small cottage on the beach. He settled down and had a son and tried to pretend he was happy. But eventually, he couldn’t take it. He disappeared one day, heading “off to the store.” In reality, he and Solana headed down the beach, as far as the sand could take them.

The pair spent a few years living a nomadic life. They wandered the forests and plains of Faerun, becoming closer to nature as purposeless ramblers than they ever did in the commune. Days faded into weeks, with the only change being the scenery. Time blurred. Until one day, wandering the beachside cliffs at dusk, Merle and Solana made a startling discovery. They weren’t closely tethered to each other like most daemon pairs were. They were still connected, not severed or anything terrible like that, just… limitless. Merle and Solana continued wandering the world, soaring free high above the trees, and finally started to get the point of Pan. 

—

Magnus and Calariel have been in enough fights that they can’t even remember where all their scars are from. One from a skinned knee protecting a dog, one from a broken bottle helping fend off a drunk man harassing a woman in a bar, one from a stupid mistake with an axe… and then it begins to blur. Cal has nearly as many scars as Magnus - a long stripe down her leg from a cat daemon’s claws, a snakebite on her back where the feathers won’t grow right. But, as cliche as it sounds, those don’t begin to compare to the scars on their hearts, their minds. 

The pair were 22 when the Raven’s Roost Rebellion began. Of course, at that point the term rebellion was optimistic. It was handfuls of people, gathered in pubs and coffee shops, quietly airing their grievances. Quietly, because Kalen had eyes everywhere. It was actually his friend Julia who pulled Magnus to one of those early meetings, who vouched for him to a scattered few suspicious eyes. Magnus had never quite gotten into politics, didn’t quite pay attention to changing laws and what they meant practically. But he understood bullies, and the more he heard these stories and fears, the more he understood just how much of a bully Governor Kalen was. And Cal and he knew one thing - that couldn’t stand. 

They were brave, reckless, unafraid, and wholly invested in the cause, making them perfect leaders. Magnus and Calariel stood at the head of protests, gave impassioned speeches, and were the front lines when weapons were finally raised. But they did not lead alone. No rebellion can be led by a single human and daemon, no matter their strength or spirit. But Magnus’s showmanship meant no one looked twice at the half-orc barkeep who organized quiet pub meetings, the elven woman who ran a small print shop and the underground newsletter, the craftswoman Julia who wrote all Magnus’s speeches. He didn’t just steal the spotlight, he intentionally cast a shadow hiding the real cornerstones of the movement. 

The movement grew from a movement to a rebellion to a revolution. Quiet meetings became protests and eventually, a battle. Cal and Magnus led the charge, his axe raised and her talons flashing. It was brutal, it was bloody, but it was ultimately quick. Karen might be a bully, but he was also a coward. The day ended with Magnus exhausted on the battlefield, bruised and bloody but his Harris hawk daemon circling above with a victorious cry. He met Julia on the edge of the carnage, her pen replaced with a spear. The two walked back to town, Cal perched on the back of her lion daemon. 

Things settled down, after that. Magnus returned to his carpentry, and he and Julia were eventually married in a small but beautiful ceremony. Magnus had built the gazebo in which they stood, the staves of his axe and her spear forming part of the rafters. They were done with war. It was time for their lives to return to peace. 

And then Magnus left, and Kalen returned. Raven’s Roost was razed to the ground, Cal and Magnus the sole survivors. Where once a bustling city had soared above the ground, now earthen pillars were instead topped with shattered wood and heaps of ash. The pair searched for days without sleep, hoping to find anyone alive. This was the first time they realized their true range, as Cal flew high overhead to scout the wreckage and Magnus dug frantically through the rubble. They did not welcome the change, viewing their former closeness as just another thing they lost that day.

They never even found Julia’s body. 

—

Taako has been alone his entire life. His childhood was spent on the road, hopping from caravan to caravan for stray jobs. He learned to cook, to fend for himself, and most importantly, how to lie. None of the caravans would get anywhere near him if they knew he was severed. 

Or at least, he figured he must be. He didn’t really know. It was unheard of for a sentient being to be born without a daemon. Daemons aren’t just companions, they’re the physical manifestations of souls. Everyone had one, even if Taako couldn’t remember his. 

There were whispers, though. Mostly told as ghost stories, there were dozens of tales of separating a daemon from their partner. Most ended in horribly painful death for both person and daemon, as of course no one could live without a soul. But late at night, children would whisper to each other - stories of the daemonless undead, rumors of bodies kept alive by daemons manually pumping their hearts, and tales of people who looked pretty and friendly, until you saw their empty eyes and couldn’t find their daemon.

Taako figured he fell into that last category. He wasn’t dead or undead, obviously. But he lived a shallow, loveless life. No one really cared about him - even if they seemed to like him they’d all throw him out as soon as they realized what he was. So he couldn’t afford to care about anybody but himself. He wandered the world with an emptiness in his chest and a smile that never reached his eyes. If he was soulless, fine. Why try to be anything else? 

So Taako traveled. He became a better cook, learned to do scraps of magic, to make caravans love him with a good meal and a witty joke. He became quite good at deflection. Oh, his daemon’s just shy. She’s a bat - a snake - a beetle - who hides in his pocket - sleeve - hair. And so people grew to like his sturdily build façade, without actually knowing him at all.

With his talent and charisma, he became a star. Sizzle It Up With Taako toured the continent, and it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Maybe this would finally fill the hole in his heart. Of course, he had to be a bit more careful now - if his audiences discovered that he was severed, it would be worse than any time before. If a caravan found out, fine, fuck them, he could leave. But he’d have nowhere to go if the world found out. 

But for a while, he was almost happy. He was no longer alone, as his assistant Sazed traveled with him. He had fame, he had glory, he was loved by all who saw him. And then things went to shit. 

Though it seemed like an instant collapse, months had led up to the betrayal. Months of Sazed slowly growing jealous of Taako, wanting his share of the fame. A jealousy that grew into resentment as the elf repeatedly refused to share the limelight, and then bitterness and anger and plotting. Sazed was done hiding in the shadows. If he couldn’t have fame, neither could Taako. 

Sazed had wondered what Taako’s daemon was. It was rare for someone to be so cagey about their daemon unless it took a truly awful form. The animal form they chose reflected the innermost aspects of their partner’s soul. A loyal, honorable person’s daemon might settle into a lion, whereas a cruel or sneaky person might have a snake or scorpion. Sazed and his fox daemon strongly suspected that Taako’s mysterious daemon fell in the latter category. 

But they needed to be sure. So one night, a few days before Glamour Springs, he pretended to celebrate. They were nearing the end of their tour, it had been a great time, why not hang out and drink, just the two of them? Taako was on board, he rarely had chances to properly socialize with people. He was tired, he trusted Sazed, and he let his guard down. 

Taako never got fully drunk, not in the whole time Sazed had known him. The elf never relaxed, ever. Which is why if Sazed wanted to learn anything from Taako, he’d have to play dirty. It only took two spells - the first to transmute Taako’s wine into a _much_ stronger drink, the second a Zone of Truth once Taako was too tipsy to notice. Then all it took to wait until Taako was absurdly drunk.

“Whoa, what is _in_ this, my man?” Taako slurred a bit. 

Sazed smiled. “Oh, a bit of this and that.” He may not be able to lie right now, but he had the presence of mind to skirt the edges of truth still. Unlike Taako. 

“Huh… nice. Don’t get drunk much, really. Didn’t think I drank ‘nuff for that now…” the elf replied, looking pensively at what he thought was a second glass of normal wine. Sazed went in for the kill.

“Hey Taako, why hasn’t Vanya ever met your daemon?” He gestured at his fox daemon, sitting on his lap and looking as sleepily innocent as possible. “It gets lonely on the road, I’m sure both could benefit from being friends.”

Taako slumped down in his chair, face falling. He muttered something under his breath, too quiet for Sazed to hear, but Vanya pricked up her ears. Noting that, Sazed tried again. 

“What’s that, dude? Didn’t quite hear you. I’d love to meet her too? Or him, maybe?” Almost everyone’s daemon was a gender other than their own. It wasn’t quite clear why some people had same-gender daemons, but it did happen. Maybe that strangeness would be reason enough for TV star Taako to hide his…

Taako looked blearily up and muttered, “I don’ HAVE one. Never have…” 

Sazed tried and failed to hide his shock and glee. This was so much more than he’d ever dreamed of - this would _ruin_ Taako. He grinned sharply at Taako, now slumped asleep in his chair. Oh, he’d regret _everything_ now!

He planned, and he waited. 

Taako woke up the next day with no memory of what had happened that night, just a horrid hangover. He was surprised he’d managed to get so drunk, but Sazed hadn’t started acting weird around him, so things must have been fine. The next few days passed normally - traveling and preparing for the next show. After a couple days, he found himself on stage in the little town of Glamour Springs.

“So, today we’re making garlic chicken. And I’m talking a _lot_ of garlic here, we want thirty cloves,” Taako rambled happily, chopping garlic and gesturing at the audience. “Now, we want to make sure we season this really well, so that means spices! Hey Sazed, could you pass me that jar of cumin?” he asked, gesturing at a jar just a few feet away. Honestly, Taako could get it himself, but it was part of the act. 

“I dunno, man. Maybe your daemon could help you, _if you had one.”_

You could have heard a pin drop. The audience seemed to be holding their breath - they could’t have heard that correctly, could they? Taako was frozen in shock, halfway through chopping. No, no, no, how did he find out? Sazed went on, obliterating any possibility of misunderstanding.

“That’s right, ladies and gentlemen! The wonderful Taako, beloved television star, is _severed!_ That fascinating, shy mystery daemon? Doesn’t fucking exist!” Vanya hissed to emphasize his words. The crowd, moving from shock to horror, began to scream, to yell, to rush the stage. There’s no saving this now. 

Taako _moved._ Still holding a knife, he raced to grab his single bag of possessions and was off like a shot. Dozens of people were at his heels, yelling that he’s a monstrosity, that he shouldn’t be alive. But they’re slow and ungainly once Taako left the steady roads of town. He darted through the woods, dodging magic missiles and eldritch blasts. Trees shattered behind him, the underbrush shredded his clothes and legs, but he was losing them.

Of course he was. He’s Taako. He’s been doing this since he was born. 

He ended the day collapsed be the side of a creek, disguised to blend in with a bush. He fell asleep surrounded by the sounds of rushing water and singing birds, so different from the creak of a carriage. The next day, he got up, burying any feelings of fear or stress or sadness, and looks around at the oh so familiar wilderness.

He’s done this before. He can do it again. He continued on, finding odd jobs and wandering the world, prepared to flee at any time. 

——

And then three paths converged, a town was destroyed, and a dwarf, a human, and an elf, with a barn owl and a Harris hawk, found themselves on the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The powers of this world are very strong. Men and women are moved by tides much fiercer than you can imagine, and they sweep us all up into the current.” - Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	2. such wide-eyed conviction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the plot.

The five beings stand in the center of a white room. To call it just a “room” is understating it, honestly. Vaulted ceilings, stained glass in the roof, and a dais with a large marble chair make the chamber some hybrid of church hall, ballroom, and throne room. An older woman, white braids in stark contrast to her dark skin, sits upon the throne. It’s her poise, not elegant robe or silver jewelry, that gives her the presence of a queen. Her daemon, a black-throated loon, sits neatly beside her. The men and daemons, having just escaped a burning town, are soot-smeared, sweaty, and altogether feeling out of place. 

Not one to wait for pleasantries, Taako steps forward and loudly asks, “Okay, will someone please tell me what the _fuck_ is going on?” His voice echoes strangely around the cavernous room.

Magnus nods. “Yeah, really. So we just watched a man burn down a city, apparently because of that compass thing, then we got fucking _launched_ to the _moon_ , then we drank some weird static-erasing jellyfish juice and now we’re here. Did I miss anything?”

“I want to emphasize the jellyfish juice thing, like, that was weird as fuck,” Merle chimes in. 

The woman puts her head in her hands for a second, then straightens. “Well, I’m very sorry for the confusion and abruptness of the situation, but there’s really no other way we could’ve done this. Welcome to the Bureau of Balance, you five.”

Magnus frowns. “Wait, five?” Taako is very, very still. 

“Six, sorry, slip of the tongue,” she replies hastily. “Anyway, welcome.”

“Okay, that basically answered nothing,” Taako snarks. “Bureau of Balance? Balancing what? You have a whole moon base secret organization, and you haven’t explained _why_.” 

The Director sighs. “Years ago, six items were created. They are called alethiometers, and you hold one now, Taako. They are… unbelievably powerful. If you know how to read it, you can find the answer to any question, any question at all. Most people can’t read them at all, or have to study for decades. But some can, innately. I want each of you to try, please. Every symbol has layers upon layers of meanings. Turn the dials to three of them to ask a question, and watch the needle for the answer.”

At their stares, she sighs again. “Don’t think too hard about it. Pick three symbols that seem to make sense for your question, then watch for an answer the same way.” 

“I’ll go!” Merle says, snatching the device from Taako’s hands. Holding it so close to his face that his eyes cross, he turns the dials to the owl, the tree, and the thunderbolt. As the beings and daemons watch, the needles spin rapidly, settling on the beehive, the ant, and the moon. Merle frowns.

“I asked if Pan is answering questions to the alethiometer, and I think it said yes, but only a little? Not just him?” Merle says. “How do these work, if it’s not divinity?”

“I wish I could tell you that, I really do. They’re… complicated. Anyone else want to give it a go?” 

Magnus raises his hand. “Ooh, me, me!” At an unimpressed look from Taako, he lowers it sheepishly and takes the device from Merle. Concentrating, he turns the dials to the moon, the dolphin, and the horse. The needle bounces off the walled garden, the anchor, and the bird. Magnus groans. 

“Aw, come on! That’s no fair!” He complains. The Director leans forward intently. 

“What did you ask?”

“I wanted to know if I could have a dog on the moon, but it said you’d say no!” She and the two other men stare at him, nonplussed.

“You’re given a magic divination device that can answer any question, and you ask if you can get a _pet?”_ Taako all but shrieks.

Shaking her head, the Director says, “No, you can’t have a dog on the moon. They’d just run off the dang thing! The only exception is dog daemons, and we don’t have many of those.”

“Okay, Taako, you go now!” Merle says, as Magnus tries (and fails) to win over the Director with puppy eyes.

Taako scoffs. “Wouldn’t this only work if we ask it something we know, and she didn’t? How do we know she’s not messing with us?” He takes the alethiometer and places the markers on the cornucopia, the globe, and the hourglass. He watches intently as the needle spins and stops on the sword, the serpent, and the marionette. Shaken, he looks back up at the Director. “All right,” he mutters. “I believe it.”

“Thank you. This confirms what I thought. Taako, Merle, Magnus, you have a gift, and I need your help. Alethiometers are dangerous in the wrong hands. You saw that in Phandalin - Gundren Rockseeker used this one and through dumb luck discovered a spell of incredible power, one that he used to burn down a town. The spell died with him, and you retrieved the alethiometer, but this isn’t the only one and a stray dwarf was hardly the greatest danger. There’s a group of - rogue witches, you might say. We call them Red Robes, because well, that’s what they wear. They want to use the alethiometers for their own purposes, dangerous purposes. I created the Bureau of Balance to stop that from happening.”

She sighs, putting her head in one hand. “I cannot read the alethiometer. I studied enough to gather glimpses, hints on occasion, but never anything concrete. But you three can truly read it, not just flashes or guesses. That makes a total of six who can. Two are… indisposed, at the moment, and one is with the Red Robes. We need to find the other alethiometers, before the Red Robes do. I have two of them, three now. There are three more out in the world. You can use these to find the others, to retrieve them safely. I’d like to hire you three as Reclaimers in my Bureau of Balance. What do you say?”

“So, by doing this, we’d help people?” Magnus asks. She nods, and he replies enthusiastically, “I’m in!”

“This seems kinda dangerous… but also really cool. Sure, why not!” Merle laughs.

Taako stares the Director down. She doesn’t blink. “…Fine. I’ll do it.” 

The Director claps her hands, smiling. “Davenport!” she calls out. It’s answered with a tiny, cheerful “Davenport!” A small gnome man in a smart suit rushes into the hall. The Director addresses the others. “This is Davenport. He can show you to your dormitory now. I’m sure you’ve all had a trying day and have much to discuss.” 

Davenport repeats “Davenport!” and waves a hand at the five. Bemused, they follow him. As they go, the people and daemons attempt to ask him and his hummingbird daemon some questions. 

“So, you live here too?” “Davenport!”

“Are you also a reclaimer?” “Davenport.”

“It’s so nice to meet you both. What’s your name?” “Zefira!”

“Can you… actually understand what we’re saying?” “Davenport!”

“My dude, are you a fucking pokemon or something? What’s with this Davenport bullshit?” 

“Taako, don’t be rude,” Magnus hisses. “I’m sure we can ask the Director.”

“Oh, yeah, because —“ Taako begins sarcastically before his mouth snaps shut and he glances around the corridor. “Actually, whatever. Hey Davenport, are we there yet?”

“Davenport!” the small man cries out, stopping in front of a dark wooden door. He politely hands each man a brass key, bows, and trots off back the way they came. Magnus gingerly pokes the doorknob. When nothing happens, he turns it and opens the door. 

“What did you think was going to happen there?” Merle jeers.

Magnus flushes. “Look, it could have been trapped, you don’t know!” He enters the room, looking around in wonder. 

The room is fairly large, with a pair of bunk beds on either side. Four desks line the far wall, and there are two large closets. For something described as a dormitory, it’s remarkably nice. 

Three of the beds appear unused, crisp blue sheets folded down neatly. One, however, is an utter disaster. The bottom left bunk is covered in chip crumbs and empty wrappers, sheets strewn in disarray. Sitting in this mess is a scrawny halfling, sleepily munching on yet more chips. “Hey y’all,” he says, his chinchilla daemon giving a relaxed tail flick. “You’re my new roomies?”

“Yep! I’m Magnus, that’s Merle, and the cranky one’s Taako. What’s your name?”

“I’m Robbie, nice to meet you.” He goes back to his chips. 

“Nice to meet you, too, Pringles!” Merle calls. He proceeds to flop face first onto the unoccupied bottom bunk. Deftly, Magnus scoops him up and places him on the upper bed, then flops down in his place. As Merle begins to complain, saying he can’t get down, Taako scoffs. “Amateurs,” he mutters, levitating himself onto the other top bunk. 

For a few minutes, all is silent. Then Magnus groans. “Ugh, today has been _too_ long. What do you guys think of everything going on?”

“Well, I’m not really sure how we can back out now,” Merle replies. “Like, the Voidfish sitch, that doesn’t really seem reversible.” 

“Yeah, fair,” Magnus concedes. “How about you, Taako?”

Taako glances around the room. Their roommate appears to be asleep, which is convenient. He casts a quick Detect Magic, and nothing pops up. Assured of his safe surroundings, he sits back and sighs. “I don’t trust a fucking thing my man.” 

“I mean sure things are pretty fucking weird, but what in particular is bugging you?” Magnus asks curiously. 

“She just… I don’t think the Director is telling us everything. She knows more than she’s letting on.” Taako rolls over. “Whatever, man. Sorry I brought it up. G’night.”

—

Magnus wakes up with a start. Breaking heavily, he glances around the room. All is still, his three roommates seem deeply asleep. He shakes his head, trying to remember whatever woke him. He thinks it must have been a nightmare, to have woken him so abruptly, but all he can remember is flashes of color - red, silver, and black. So much black. Well, he’s not falling back asleep anytime soon.

He pads out into the dimly-lit hall, doing his best to not wake his roommates. Cal is perched sleepily on his shoulder - she’s never been an easy riser. He figures they probably shouldn’t be wandering the moon base, but who’s going to stop them? It must be two in the morning, nobody else should be awake. 

His aimless walk eventually finds them in the Voidfish’s chambers. It’s a large room, nearly as large as the Director’s hall. One side of the room has a few closets, tables, various items needed for the Voidfish’s care and collection of ichor. The entire other side of the room is taken up by the Voidfish’s tank.

Magnus has never seen something as beautiful as the creature before him. Nearly ten feet across, it is luminescent in the night’s shadows. Patters of blue and purple glows play across its body, with flashes of white, like stars, emitting from its tendrils. They wave gently, as if moved by some invisible current. As Magnus enters its chamber, they begin to move faster, with more frequent flashes. He walks up to the tank, putting his hand upon it.

“Hey, buddy,” Magnus says. “How’re ya doing in here? Hope I’m not bothering you, I couldn’t sleep.” Cal, a bit more awake, flutters up to rest on the rim of the tank. 

And the Voidfish… responds. It resounds a string of notes, ethereal and echoing in the small room. Magnus doesn’t really know music, but he realizes there was a pattern - the same seven tones being played over and over again, getting faster and louder. Magnus glances around quickly and hisses “Shh! I can’t understand you, I’m sorry, and I don’t want to get in trouble for being here!” 

The Voidfish droops. It repeats the sequence one more time, almost mournfully. Magnus rests his head against the tank, and Cal makes a sad crooning noise. “I wish I could understand you,” he says sadly. “You seem really neat.” He remains there for a few moments, just thinking. He loses track, for just a moment - it’s late and he’s quite tired. As a result, it takes him a moment too long to notice footsteps in the hall. 

“Oh shit!” he whispers, frantically looking around the room. He can’t go out into the hall, he has to hide somewhere in here. 

Cal hisses back, “The cabinet! Look!” She dives toward a large cabinet which seems mostly empty. Magnus has just managed to dart inside after her and close the door as the footsteps enter the room. Daringly, he leaves a small crack open - he wants to see who else is up so late.

Apparently, the Director. She’s not in her blue robes now, but instead grey pajamas. She apparently couldn’t sleep either. In her arms, she cradles a bundle of red fabric. She walks up to the tank, reaching out as if to place a hand upon the glass, but she hesitates. Shoulders drooping, it falls back to her side.

“What am I doing?” She asks the Voidfish. It responds, the music almost sounding angry. She slumps forward further. “I’m so sorry, I really am. I wouldn’t do this if there was any other way.”

With a sigh, she sits down on the floor, leaning against the tank and pulling her knees to her chest. Sitting like that, Magnus thinks that she looks so young, despite her obvious age. He loon daemon walks up next to her and… that’s strange, he hadn’t seen him enter the chamber with her. Eh, he’s mostly black colored, he must have blended in. The daemon leans his head against her knee and murmurs something Magnus and Cal don’t catch. She smiles sadly.

“I know, I know it’s the only way,” she says. “I just wish we didn’t have to, still.” She reaches into the bundle of fabric and pulls out something small and glittery. Magnus recognizes it as an alethiometer, though a different one from the one they’d retrieved today. That one had been a smooth, matte golden color and the one she holds now is silver, faceted with tiny mirrors that flash in the dim light. Brow furrowed, she fiddles with its dials, asking what appears to be a series of questions. None seem to have thrilling results, and she rubs her eyes a few times as if reading it is exhausting. With a sigh, she replaces it in the fabric, and Cal hears a distinct clinking noise. There’s something else in that bundle, too. 

She and her daemon sit there so long Magnus worries he’ll fall asleep in the closet. A few times, he falls so close to dozing off that Cal has to gently squeeze her talons into his shoulder. But eventually, the Director stands up, looks up at the Voidfish as if she’s going to say something, then shakes her head and leaves. Magnus waits a minute after her footsteps fade, then tumbles out of the closet. Cal fluffs up her feathers, trying to straighten any that were crumpled in there. 

“Well, that was weird,” she says flatly. 

Magnus straightens a few of her harder to reach feathers. “Yep. I’m not sure what the fuck that was, but I’m tired. Let’s go back to bed.” He turns up to the Voidfish. “Night, new friend!” he says. It responds with a quiet chime. The human and daemon head back into the hall, and back to their room. Nothing has changed, their roommates are as fast asleep as ever. Wearily, Magnus and Calariel join them.

In the morning, they don’t remember any of the events of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Being a practiced liar doesn't mean you have a powerful imagination. Many good liars have no imagination at all; it's that which gives their lies such wide-eyed conviction.” -Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	3. fangs, or claws, or bristling fur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reclaimers settle in. Lucas fucks up. Merle is underestimated.

Time passes, high above the world. The three new Reclaimers and their daemons settle into their new life as if they were born there. Merle does his best to befriend the Director, as the person closest to his own age. It goes fairly well, all things considered. She’s a very serious and reserved person in public, and as he spends more time with her he realizes it’s not just a professional front - she’s actually remarkably uncomfortable around people. Merle takes this as a challenge, trying to help her relax more and open up to people. The first time she laughs at a joke he makes, he can’t stop grinning for a whole day. Solana tries her best with the Director’s daemon, and learns he’s named Arun. She doesn’t get much else out of him - he much prefers to listen to her talk, so talk she does. She preens whenever he interacts with her wild stories, asking questions about their years wandering.

Magnus makes friends on the base. As the team muscle, he has to spend a lot of time training. It’s in the moon’s gym that he re-encounters Killian, the orc woman who brought them to the Bureau. She’s much more fun to be around now that lives aren’t at stake, and they spar together. Killian also introduces him to her girlfriend Carey, who immediately challenges Magnus to an obstacle course race. It’s an extremely uneven match, as Magnus is bulky and inexperienced and Carey has the agility of a dragonborn who’s been doing this her whole life, but Magnus accepts immediately. He’s beaten by miles, but doesn’t give up - the two can be found every day after racing. He may not be at her level, but he’s clearly improving. While Magnus, Carey, and Killian train, their daemons practice in their own way. They’ll try insane stunts, such as Killian’s boar daemon launching Carey’s iguana into the air, doing a flip before she’s caught by Cal. It’s ridiculous, risky, and extremely fun. 

Initially, it looks like Taako’s the only one not settling into the Bureau of Balance. He hides away in the kitchens, cooking at all times of the day. It seems isolating, at a glance. But he’s actually doing quite a lot behind the scenes. The sparring squad will return from training and find an enormous hot meal waiting, the Director finds baked goods tucked around her workspace when she’s working so much she forgets to eat, one day every employee of the Bureau wakes up to a bag of cookies left anonymously on their doorstep. He tries to feed the Voidfish, too, but gives up when he realizes it doesn’t like anything tangible. (He does encourage Johann to write music on rice paper though). And in some weird, backwards way, he becomes a mentor.

It’s not really clear what Angus is doing on the moon. He just sort of showed up there, apparently having followed the trail of truly missing persons. Short on options, the Director hired him, muttering about child labor laws the whole time. But he fits in well at the Bureau. His nearly unlimited fount of knowledge is only strengthened by the fact that he can slightly interpret the alethiometer. On top of that, he’s also training to become a wizard. Or doing his best, anyway. The Director tries to keep him under her wing, instruct him whenever she can, but she has too much on her plate. So if he sometimes wanders into the kitchen while Taako’s working, well, what’s the harm in teaching him a few tricks? Occasional chance meetings turn into the two spending most of their time together. Taako cooks while Angus sits at a counter with a book, occasionally taste-testing. It’s mostly silent, which works for both of them. Most importantly, though Angus’s crow gives Taako some strange looks, the genius boy detective never asks about Taako’s daemon. 

All is peaceful for a few short weeks, until the three men are rudely awoken at some ungodsly hour of the morning. The Director is standing at the door to their room, face grim. “I’m sorry, everyone. But there’s been a crisis and I need your help.” 

They pull on something actually approaching real clothes and follow her out into the hall. Merle almost has to run to keep up with the Director’s pace; she’s certainly in a hurry. In a few moments they’re in her office, a small anteroom off the Main Hall. A stone of farsight sits on her desk, projecting the image of a very nervous looking young man. 

“This, Reclaimers, is Lucas Miller,” the Director says imperiously. “Lucas, would you like to explain what exactly is currently happening? Start with the bit where you stole an alethiometer, please.” She is _not_ happy. 

Lucas shakes. “I never meant to- to _steal_ anything! I just found it, I was going to bring it in, I just… wanted to see if it could help me first. I….” His voice wavers under the Director’s stern gaze. With a loud huff, he shakes his head. A small capuchin monkey daemon climbs up his back, peeping her head over his shoulder. He glances at her fondly and continues. 

“To put it simply, I fucked up. I’m really sorry, Lucretia, this went so differently than I planned. I thought the alethiometer could help me with… an experiment I was running. But I can’t read it properly, and I apparently misunderstood something and a spell went wrong. My lab is currently being overrun by living crystal. It’s like fucking Midas in here, but pink. Anything the crystal touches is transformed. I’m locked in here, in my main lab station, with the alethiometer, but it’s only a matter of time until we’re overrun. And if that happens, well, did I mention that this place is hovering? It’s a matter of time until important enough mechanisms are crystallized too and the whole lab crashes down. And then the crystal will spread.” He catches his breath - he was rushing through his explanation as if he expected someone to stop him. When no one did, he adds, “I’d estimate there’s about three hours left.”

“Thank you, Lucas,” the Director - Lucretia? - says. She then addresses the others in the room with her. “I’m going to send you after Lucas and the alethiometer. You’ll be given suits resistant to the crystal infection. Unfortunately, they don’t work for daemons, so they’ll have to be extremely careful and stay off the ground.” Solana and Cal look at her somberly. She continues. “You’ll be able to keep in touch with me and Lucas through stones of farspeech. I think that’s all. Lucas, they’ll be there shortly.”

She cuts the connection and turns to the three men. “Yeah, no, that’s not all. The alethiometers have some… unique qualities. People don’t just want them because they’re powerful, the device itself magically influences people. It’s not greed, it’s literally magical manipulation. That’s part of why they’re dangerous. And Lucas is being affected by that.” She looks them straight in the eye. “You have three mission objectives. First, clearly, prevent the crystal apocalypse bullshit. Retrieve the alethiometer from Lucas. And last, bring Lucas back to stand trial. Ideally unharmed, but you may have to fight him for the alethiometer. You may not be able to trust him fully - he wants to prevent disaster, but he also wants to keep the device.” 

Magnus is wide-eyed. Lucretia sighs. “I’m sorry, that got grim. Just… do what you can, and stay safe. Here are stones of farspeech, and your suits are near the hangar. We should be able to launch you directly to Lucas’s lab. Good luck, and keep in contact.”

It’s a matter of moments to get suited up in some hybrid of hazmat and space suit and board the bubble. They’re launched out over the Stillwater Sea, watching the sun’s rays just beginning to peek above the horizon. Before long, they catch sight of a strange object hovering mere meters above the waves. Half of it is sleek, all silver curves and crisp windows reflecting hints of dawn. The other side is a chaotic mess. Pink crystals coat half of the building, turning smooth metal into ragged stone. In some places, hints of the underlying metal can be seen below the translucent crystal, but in many it’s too thick. The bubble touches down gently in a crevice on the crystal side. It clearly used to be some sort of hangar bay, but now it looks more like the inside of a geode. 

Reclaimers and daemons exit the bubble cautiously. Cal grips her claws into Magnus’s shoulders as he stumbles on the uneven floor. Cal and Solana have begrudgingly agreed to fly as little as possible to reduce chance of infection. However, that seriously limits their ability to help on this mission. 

Merle lifts his stone of farspeech to his face. “Alright, science guy. Where are we going?”

Lucas’s nervous voice echoes through the stone. “You should be in the main hangar bay. I’m on the far side of the building. It’s pretty much a straight shot if the crystal hasn’t spread too much. Let me know if you get stuck!”

Magnus and Taako glance at each other and shrug. Then the three reclaimers begin the hazardous enterprise. Some places are better than expected, with clear floor peeking through. Others it’s nearly like spelunking, with crystals as large around as Magnus is tall rupturing through walls and blocking easy routes. It would be hard to pass through even without carrying a vulnerable daemon. As is, there’s too many close calls for comfort. 

Eventually, though, they reach a point where the main hallway of the laboratory is completely blocked by crystal. Magnus calls Lucas. “Okay, we’re stuck, looks like we have two options. On the right, tiny hallway, not super crystal-y, signs say ‘Third Botany Lab’ and ‘Fourteenth Chemical Storeroom’. Left, fuckload of crystals, bigger hallway. Which one?”

“Uh, left, I think. That should route you through the secondary theoretical physics annex, it’s quicker,” Lucas replies. 

Merle hisses at Taako, “How the fuck does he name this place? It’s ridiculous!” Lucas overhears and gets huffy.

“Well I’m sorry, there’s a very sophisticated system to it and I understand why _you_ might not grasp it. If that’s all, I’m sure you can make it the rest of the way _just fine_.” The stone makes a small click noise.

“Nice going, man. Let’s go, I want to get out of here,” Magnus says, picking his way carefully through the uneven crystals. Taako and Merle reluctantly follow suit. 

The three men turn a corner, entering a new room, and stop so fast that Merle stumbles into Taako, Solana almost falling off his shoulder. The elf doesn’t complain as he normally would, though. Instead, he’s cautiously bringing his stone of farspeech up and saying in a slow, even tone: “Hey Lucas? Is there supposed to be a giant, crystal, dude-thing here?” Cal lets out a low, aggressive cry. 

They stand in a large room, almost entirely covered in crystal. That’s nothing new. What _is_ different is the figure who stands before them. Almost fifteen feet tall, the humanoid form appears to be made of the same pink crystal overtaking the laboratory, but lit from within. With one angular arm, it points at… one of them, it’s hard to tell which. A voice, raspy like clattering rocks in the surf and yet weirdly British sounding, emanates from the figure, despite its lack of any facial features like a mouth. 

All it says is a long, drawn out, “You absolute _fucks._ ”

“Yeah okay, I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’ from Lucas.” Taako laughs. “Fucking run!”

“Cal, hang on!” Magnus shouts. Calariel grips tightly to his shoulder as the man charges the golem. With all his strength, he swings his axe in a horizontal arc at the being’s torso… and bounces off. The golem’s hardly scratched. Almost casually, it swings a massive arm down towards Magnus. Razor-sharp faceted claws emerge from its hand, forcing Magnus to dodge or risk a very gruesome death. As he retreats, Magnus shouts, “Okay, new plan, hits don’t work! I repeat, hits are no good!”

Taako takes a step forward. “I think you’re just trying the wrong kind of hits, my man!” He extends a hand, palm out, and casts Shatter. A wave of force bursts forward, hitting the golem just below the shoulder. Its entire arm is utterly obliterated, shards of crystal shrapnel rocketing in all directions. Taako yells “Booyah!” and ducks behind a crystalline lab bench, shaking crystal bits from his hair. However, the victory is cut short. As they watch, shards from around the room begin to vibrate. Together, they return to the golem as if drawn by a magnet, and the men watch in disbelief as its arm reassembles. Magnus boos. 

Merle scrambles to the top of a table, Solana on his arm. It’s clear he’s going for dramatic effect, but he struggles with the climb and looks less like a triumphant warrior and more like a geriatric mountain goat. Still, he stands as tall as he can upon the table, raising Solana up and shouting, “I cast Guardian of Faith!”

Taako yells back “You don’t gotta call your shots!” Magnus, on the other hand, is entranced. Something’s happening to Solana. A golden glow is emanating from the already golden bird, as she somehow seems to smile. It expands and brightens until everyone in the room has to cover their eyes or risk blindness. After a moment, it fades a bit, revealing an incredible sight. Where Solana had been, there now stands an immense, spectral owl, even larger than the golem. She looks as if she’s made of golden light, and Solana’s body can barely be seen deep within the heart of the creature. But it’s still so clearly her.

Daemons are complicated. They’re tangible, they have hearts and minds and bodies. But they occupy a grey area between the real and the impossible. When a daemon dies, they leave no body behind. They are pure energy, pure spirit, condensed into a real form. And with a little added magic, they can go even beyond that. 

Solana steps forward, infectious crystal having no effect on her magnificent otherworldly form. With a shriek that sounds like bells and laughter and children screaming in joy, she sweeps a glowing wing at the golem. It ducks, razor sharp feathers just barely missing its head. But that dodge puts it in range of her talons, which she slashes across its chest. With a sound like scraping metal, her claws tear through the crystal and leave deep, jagged grooves. The golem stumbles back, desperate. It hadn’t expected to meet any real resistance and it’s panicking now, looking for an escape. Solana gives it none. She tilts her head almost inquisitively, then spreads her wings and lunges. Her beak pierces the golem in its head, right where an eye would be. Like glass, it shatters. The golem crumbles into shards and powder before the daemon, leaving whatever had illuminated it floating before the owl. The light darts away, racing up before it winks out. 

Solana, still massive, turns back to the four others. Magnus ducks and peeks out at her from behind a table. However, she ignores all others, going straight back to Merle. As she approaches, he’s babbling, phrases along the lines of “who’s a good girl!” and “fuck yeah that was _awesome_!” She clacks her beak and leans down, eye to eye with Merle. He leans forward, touching his forehead to hers. 

As the others watch, she reverts. The light flares for a few moments, nearly blinding Calariel’s sharp eyes, but then seems to be absorbed back into her. She shrinks down rapidly, floating in the air before Merle as the light contracts and dims. Just when it’s almost gone, he catches her, pulling her close. For a moment, her eyes still glow with incandescent light, but then she blinks and it’s gone. 

The old, vagabond beach dwarf and his quiet, unassuming daemon turn to face their team. “Well, so that worked!” Merle says proudly. The others simply stare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Everyone's daemon instantly became warlike: each child was accompanied by fangs, or claws, or bristling fur, and Pantalaimon, contemptuous of the limited imaginations of these gyptian daemons, became a dragon the size of a deer-hound.”  
> ― Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	4. ribs laid open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas is hiding things. Merle and Magnus are tired. Taako has a very bad day. Kravitz just wants everyone to get their shit together.

Merle and Solana wander off into the next room like nothing happened. Taako, Magnus, and Calariel follow, shocked. They continue through the halls in silence until they reach a crystal-free airlock labeled MAIN LAB. Taako calls Lucas.

“Ding-dong motherfucker, we’re here. Can you let us in so we can fix your disaster?” 

The airlock slides open with a _whoosh_ and they hear a voice say, “Hurry, hurry, come in!” Wandering in, the Reclaimers gaze about the dimly lit room in which they now find themselves. Unlike the rest of the lab complex, it’s clean of pink crystal. Shining lab benches fill the enormous room, cluttered with erlenmeyer flasks, bunsen burners, and the like. A few details stand out, distinguishing it from your average chemistry lab. For one, robots line the walls of the room. They range in size from small enough to fit in a hand to twice as large as Magnus, but all are humanoid. Some look broken, limbs snapped off and wires hanging out. Others look intact but dead, non-functioning. However, even those pale in comparison to the center of the room. 

Brightly colored disks float around the room, locked in some incomprehensible orbit. They catch the dim light and flash red, green, black, every color imaginable. As they dart by, the men and daemons catch flickers of images in them, like reflections. But not really - instead of showing the room around them, they show a wide variety of scenes. One seems full of starlight, another waves crashing on the beach, one more thousands of white eyes. The Reclaimers stand transfixed, watching the many disks dart around the room. After a moment, however, they catch sight of their real reason for being there.

Lucas stands sheepishly in the corner. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey yourself,” Merle growls. “You fucked up. How do we fix it so we can get back to normal things like, I dunno, sleeping?” 

Lucas shrinks in on himself. “Okay, so. Long story there. I can skip most of it, but you do need some background. Basic science time, you know what planes are?”

“Like… airplanes?” Magnus asks. “Wait, no, I don’t know what that even means. Anyway, go on?”

“Planes, like flat… things. Planes of existence. There’s twelve total per… system, or world, I guess, but infinite systems and worlds and planes.” He waves a hand, and a handful of the disks from around the room fly over to float in front of them. They seem to be orbiting one disk in particular, blue-green in color and seeming to actually reflect the room. Lucas gestures at it. “We live on the Prime Material plane of our world. That’s like… not just our planet, not just Faerun, but the entire observable universe. The whole thing, on this one plane. The others in our system are less… tangible, I guess you could say. Like, the plane of Thought, plane of Magic-” He waves vaguely at some of the other disks- “those are where, well, thought and magic and stuff come from. And then there’s the planes somewhere in between. The Astral plane, where the gods live, the Ethereal plane, where dead souls go… and so on. They’re all layered upon each other, parallel but not interacting much. I was able to figure out some of this before, with my mother.” He pauses for a second. “But my real breakthrough was thanks to the alethiometer. All these disks? The alethiometer showed me how to make them from gemstone. They act as windows to those planes. With all of them together, you can see so much… do so much…”

“Okay, there’s at least one problem with your explanation so far,” Taako states. “There’s only eleven of these things.”

“I was _getting to that,_ ” Lucas snaps. “There was a twelfth. The Astral plane’s disk was… stolen. Something got into my lab, took it, and corrupted it. That’s the source of the crystal, that being and that disk. We need to catch them and destroy the disk. If we can do that, this should stop. Here,” he says, pulling something out of his lab coat pocket. “You can read the alethiometer, right? Ask - “

He holds it out, and then freezes mid sentence. After a moment, Magnus asks “Uh? Dude?” But there’s no response. Lucas isn’t blinking, isn’t breathing. It’s as if time has stopped. The floating disks, seconds ago flying across the lab, are still, and there’s no sound. Until the Reclaimers hear a voice behind them, raspy and echoing and deep.

It asks, **“DO YOU TRUST ME?”**

They whirl around, Cal and Magnus readying to strike. They’re facing some sort of spectral being. But unlike Solana’s glowing spectral form, this one almost radiates darkness. It’s humanoid, but there’s a shadowy substance like smoke that flows out from where its body should be. Its only distinguishable feature is the ragged, flowing red robe. 

The Red Robe repeats. **“DO YOU TRUST ME?”**

Taako laughs, holding his umbrastaff tightly. “Uh, fuck no?”

As he speaks, Cal lunges. She swoops toward the figure, claws outstretched to rake its face. But her talons find no purchase, going straight through it like mist.

Magnus lowers his axe. “Dammit, hits need to work on more things.”

The Red Robe sighs. **“YOU NEED TO TRUST ME. YOU NEED TO KNOW.”** It hesitates. **“ARE YOU AFRAID?”**

The men are nonplussed. “Like, in general? Or of you? Like, you’re kinda fucking spooky my dude.”

This seems to exasperate the figure. **“YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID. THERE IS… A HUNGER. THE HUNGER OF ALL LIVING THINGS.”**

“Look, you need to fucking chill with the cryptic riddles, dude. You’re probably evil, so we already don’t trust you, _at all_ , and you’re not helping your cause here.” Taako says.

The figure stills. **“EVIL? WHO TOLD YOU THAT?”**

“…The Director?” Magnus says hesitantly. “There was like… a whole speech about renegade witches in red? Rogue yous?”

The figure seems to almost come apart, a high pitched, vibrato whine emitting from its form. It vibrates, blurring until it’s more mist than figure. Merle backs up. After a moment, though, it quite literally pulls itself together.

 **“I WANT TO HELP YOU. YOU HAVE TO TRUST ME. I CAN’T EXPLAIN YET. BUT SOON.”** More of that blackness, that dark smoke, billows out from his hands.  
**“THERE IS A HUNGER, FOR POWER, FOR CONTROL. IT HAS CONSUMED A BILLION WORLDS.”**

The smoke spreads out, surrounding the floating disks. One by one, their light fades, blocked by the thick, choking darkness. In moments, there’s only one left - the center disk, the one that represents the Prime Material plane. 

**“THERE IS NOWHERE TO RUN, NO ESCAPE. THIS IS THE LAST CHANCE.”** The figure looks at each man in turn. **“GOOD LUCK.”**

And it fades away, mist dissipating into the air. 

In a blink, time starts again.

“- it, it’ll tell you the same thing I did,” Lucas continues. 

Taako and Magnus glance quickly at each other. Obviously Lucas has no idea anything just happened, so best to play along now and process whatever the fuck _that_ was later. Magnus takes the alethiometer from Lucas, fiddling with the dials. This one’s different from the one in Phandalin - it’s sparkly, with a face of faceted crystal that flashes in the dim light. After a moment, he looks up. “Okay, fine. So… We haven’t stopped this crystal apocalypse yet, but we know how now. After this, we’ll hunt down whatever stole the disk… I think we bumped into them earlier. And thanks for giving the alethiometer back, too, that helps a bunch. That’s two goals down. So, uh…” He trails off, and Taako jumps in.

“Lucas Miller, by whatever authority a weird moon base gives me, you’re under arrest. No idea what you have rights to, this group doesn’t seem to care about real world legality so much, so it’s probably best if you just agree and come with us.” 

Lucas has been getting more and more tense during Magnus’s ramble. Now, he looks cornered, defeated… yet not afraid.

“Sorry guys, you seem like decent people, and I get why you’re doing this” he says with a sad smile, backing away. “No hard feelings?” 

As he’s saying this, Taako’s aimed his umbrastaff at the man and is readying a magic missile. But he’s too slow - before he can shoot, Lucas fires off a Hold Person. The Reclaimers are paralyzed, can do nothing but watch as Lucas gives a slight wave and darts away. In moments, he’s gone. 

The spell fades to a chorus of five beings cursing up a storm. They race to the door, but the hallway branches so many different ways. It’s impossible for them to know which way he went.

Taako plops down on the floor. “Well, fuck.”

Merle, Solana, Magnus, and Calariel join him, forming a circle on the ground. 

“Okay,” Magnus starts. “That did not go great.”

“No shit,” Merle scoffs. “So now we’ve got to hunt down a monster, and a fugitive, and save the world. Wow, what a great mission, I’m loving this! Fuck, this couldn’t get any worse.”

As he says that, there’s an explosion behind them. They dive behind counters as the main airlock door, now nearly folded in half, rockets past them and slams into the wall. 

“Hello?” A voice calls out. It sounds vaguely familiar.

Taako rolls out, umbrella set against his shoulder like a rifle and aimed at the doorway. “We are having a _very_ rough day here, thug, so you either explain yourself in the next five seconds or I’m gonna tentacle your dick! Five! Four-“

“All right, all right, look, I’m sure we can handle this civilly.” A man steps through the doorway, hands raised. He’s wearing a smart suit and a feathered cape, with a staff of some sort at his side. “Just give me a chance to talk, because we’re all here on official business and I respect that, but there’s also some bullshit going on.”

“Come join the friendship circle, oh wait, no, that’s reserved for people who haven’t tried to _kill_ us!” Taako shouts. He’s finally placed the voice. “Y’all, this dude is the crystal monster that tried to _fucking murder us_ and started this whole mess!”

The man looks affronted. “What? No, I’m here to _fix_ this disaster, just like you. I’m not a monster, that’s just rude. Anyway, you’re one to talk, what with being severed and all! You’re like, half the reason I’m here!”

Taako can’t breathe. No, no, no, this can’t be happening, it _can’t_. The world grows distant, vision greying out, as all Taako can hear is his own rapid breathing. He’d been so careful. No one knew, no one had suspected. He had a place, a job, _people_. He’s just lost it all again, thanks to this fucker he’s never even seen before. It's all gone. He can’t do this again. He can’t. No, no, no, no…

Through the haze, he hears Magnus say, “Well, that is one hell of an unfounded accusation. How about you sit the fuck down, away from us, and explain what exactly is happening here?”

The man sits. It’s almost humorous, seeing this elegant man sitting on a dingy laboratory floor, facing an arc of ragtag misfits. He clears his throat. 

“Well, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Kravitz, and I am a reaper of the Raven Queen.”

He flicks his staff, and a long blade unfurls from its end. In moments, he’s holding a glimmering black scythe. 

“Like, grim reaper? Like, you kill people?” Merle is scooting backward across the floor, trying to get as far away from the blade as possible. He’s going for nonchalant, but instead he just looks ridiculous. Solana sighs.

“No, no, not that kind of reaper. I mean they do exist, you’re not totally wrong, but I’m not one. I don’t kill people.”

“Then WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT EARLIER!” Merle shrieks, now peeking out from behind a table. 

“Uhhh… Apprehension? Detainment? Stopping a lunatic with an axe from decapitating me?” Kravitz says.

“I’LL SHOW YOU SOME FUCKING APPREHENSION-“ 

Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose. “Guys, back on track please? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but no murdering, for once. Kravitz, what do you do?”

He seems hesitant. “Well, the Raven Queen is the goddess of death, but she has a pretty broad scope of influence. Some reapers deal with collecting the dead, or catching those who evade death. I specialize in daemon-related crimes. A daemon’s bond… it’s one of the most sacred things there is. When people die, their daemon dissolves into Dust, and that bond can’t be re-forged. So most of what I go after is necromancers, liches, etcetera- those who come back from the dead, and don’t have daemons anymore. They’re only half people at that point. Daemons are souls, right? People coming back soulless really fucks them up, it corrupts them. And the Raven Queen can’t let that stand.” 

He takes a breath, as the men and daemons stare in fascination and horror. “That’s half the reason I’m here. There’s a being in this laboratory who came back… wrong. They were dead, now they don’t have a daemon and it’s corrupted them. The other reason is well… you five, but specifically that one.” He points at Taako. 

“The other half of my job is hunting down practitioners of intercision. You’ve all heard of severing, right?” They nod apprehensively. “It’s usually talked about as a horrible accident, right? Because of course no one would ever do that on purpose, not to anyone. Well… Intercision is the act of intentionally severing someone’s daemon.”

Solana and Cal curl closer to Merle and Magnus. Taako feels just numb, empty. Ignoring this, Kravitz continues. “It’s a fucking abomination. Intercision is horrific, it generally kills both person and daemon, and those it doesn’t it horribly changes forever. They’re soulless, heartless. But the act of breaking a bond creates an enormous amount of power, so it’s used by immoral people for all sorts of purposes. So that’s the rest of my job, hunting down severed people or the people who severed them.”

Flatly, Taako says, “So you’re here to kill me then. I’m severed, I’m soulless, I don’t deserve to exist.” Magnus and Merle let out indignant exclamations. Kravitz… hesitates.

“Well… that was the initial plan. But that was before I actually spoke to you. You… you’re strange. I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“Wow, I’m flattered,” Taako deadpans, working frantically to maintain a calm and collected façade. “Get to the point.”

Kravitz looks him dead in the eyes as he says, “Taako, right? You’re not severed.”

For the second time, Taako feels faint. Clearly, this reaper must we wrong, because if he’s not… oh gods.

Magnus snarks, “Chill with the dramatic timing and just explain already, man.”

Kravitz nods. “Okay. Taako, I don’t know if you ever had a daemon, or if they’re just… somewhere else right now? But you have a soul, I can tell that sort of thing. You’re a whole person, you always have been.” After a short pause, he says, “I can’t feel a bond to your daemon, but I also can’t feel a ruptured bond. Maybe it’s hidden or something, I don’t know. And you four,” he nods at the others, “there’s something really funky going on with your bonds. We’re going to have to talk about that later.”

“Okay, that is definitely a topic for _later_ , but I think I can explain some of that,” Merle says. “Now that we’ve got that sorted out, can we get to the whole ‘taking down an undead soulless magic being’ thing?”

“Actually,” Magnus interjects, “Two things first. Like, okay, now that you’ve covered the ‘living things without daemons are monsters’ deal, where the fuck is your daemon?”

Kravitz chuckles. “Oh, no, you misunderstand. I’m not alive. I was once, and I had a daemon then. She disappeared upon my death. But I’m not undead, I’m just dead. I’m sort of a spirit. Incidentally, that’s another reason you should maybe not try to kill me - that ship has sailed so long ago.”

Magnus nods, looking pensive. “Okay, weird, but I’ll believe you for now. Now, could you step out for a few minutes? We need to discuss some things before we start planning.”

He acquiesces and exits. Then Magnus, Calariel, Merle, and Solana turn to face Taako, who’d been shaking a bit through the whole conversation. He can’t breathe. It’s gonna happen, they hate him oh gods he’s going to lose them he has to run - 

He doesn’t even realize he was backing away until he hits a chair and stumbles. Magnus rushes toward him and instinctively Taako throws his hands up to shield himself, sending him further off balance and crashing to the ground. Magnus backs up, hands raised.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay dude. No one’s going to hurt you, you’re okay, you’re safe,” Magnus states in an even voice. Cal clacks her beak at Taako gently. 

“I have to leave,” Taako chokes out. “I’m daemonless and you know now and _I have to leave._ ”

“Uhh… No? You don’t?” Merle says, sounding confused. “Dude… this is not breaking news.”

“What.” Taako asks flatly. He couldn’t have heard that right.

Magnus sighs. “Look, we lived in a fucking dorm together and we never once saw your daemon. Even that one time, with the geese-“

“The geese we _agreed_ not to speak about,” Merle interjects. “But yeah man, it was fairly obvious that she wasn’t around.”

“But… if you knew I was severed… why?” Taako asks weakly.

“Okay, first off, we literally just got confirmation that you’re not severed. And also like, we know you?” Magnus says, almost phrasing it as a question. “We know you, Taako. It’s pretty fucking obvious that you have a soul. You’re an asshole but you’re not _heartless_.”

“And uh… we have better reason to believe than most,” Merle adds, glancing at Magnus. He nods and says, “Cal? Demonstration?”

Instantly, she launches herself from his shoulder. The main lab is immense, with high ceilings, and so in instants she’s ten… twenty… fifty feet from Magnus, who’s smiling awkwardly. With a joyous cry, Solana joins her friend and they begin some hybrid of playful dogfight and acrobatics routine. Taako stares.

“We figured each other out during the geese thing too. We’ve all been able to do this for years. No obvious cause, no negative effects,” Magnus says.

“And no distance limits at all,” Merle adds. “So… Maybe you’re like us too. Maybe whoever your daemon is, she’s just somewhere else. Who knows? But we certainly won’t judge you for this.”

Magnus pulls a stunned Taako to his feet, and Cal and Solana return. “I don’t… thanks, guys,” the elf says, seeming at a loss for words and for once, completely heartfelt. He shakes a little, pulling back that veneer of apathy. He halfway manages, but there’s something a little raw and deliriously happy under his nonchalant grin. “All right, if we’re done with the mushy stuff, time to fucking wreck some shop!” Taako exclaims, bolting for the door. Magnus and Merle exchange a quick smile and charge after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “A human being with no daemon was like someone without a face, or with their ribs laid open and their heart torn out; something unnatural and uncanny that belonged to the world of nightghasts, not the waking world of sense.” - Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	5. own dear soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has an _extremely_ bad time, but at least things get fixed. Mostly.

“Alright, wait, what happened to planning?” Magnus shouts, chasing after Taako. “We were going to plan this? Like responsible people?”

“No plan, just run!” the elf shouts back. “Whatever happened to rushing in? We gotta find this dude and stop this shit!” 

Magnus puts his head in his hands, until he trips over a crystal protrusion because that’s not a smart strategy while running. The five remaining individuals split up - if they’re giving up planning they might as well try to cover as much ground as possible. They weave through passages, darting this way and that, checking every nook and cranny for Lucas or the corrupted being they’re after. Running slows to jogging, which eventually fades to a wheezing walk or gentle glide - the lab is surprisingly large. However, eventually, their slapdash plan bears fruit. Cal darts back out of a hallway and hisses, “Hey guys, this way! Quietly!” 

They creep down the hall until they reach a sort of intersection, a hub of many branching halls. It’s slow, dangerous going, as these halls are the most crystalline of anywhere in the lab. But they eventually make it to the center, where they see a strange sight.

Lucas, now in a protective suit like the Reclaimers, is wildly hacking away at a crystal pillar in the center of the room. He’s muttering all the while, and they catch fragments of it: “Come on, we can make this work, it has to work…. you have to come back…. I can’t lose you again. I know it’s bad… we can fix it, we can make it better, we can do this…”

His small capuchin daemon is perched on his shoulder, murmuring softly to him, too quietly for the others to hear. As they creep closer, they get a better look at the pillar. 

“Pillar” makes it sound uniform, stable, intentional. It’s really none of those. A jagged protuberance of vibrantly pink stone seems to erupt from the steel floor at Lucas’s feet. Small chips of crystal fall around him as he works intently with a small mallet and chisel. But he’s not just mindlessly destroying, he’s excavating something. Like a butterfly from their chrysalis, a figure is emerging from the stone. It appears humanoid, but metallic, and after a moment Taako recognizes it as one of the robots he’d seen earlier, in Lucas’s lab. This one is notably different in two ways. For one, it’s much more humanoid. While many of the others were more abstract, less aesthetically pleasing, this one looks like a human woman shaped out of metal. Not just a generic female form, either - it has short curly hair, laugh lines, and a silvery lab coat. It’s clearly based on someone real.

The other key detail is that unlike the rest, this robot is clearly in working order. Its eyes glow with an amber light and its form, now mostly freed from the stone, is shaking, vibrating. It’s trying to break out, faster than Lucas can help it. His muttering has grown more frantic, his daemon chittering nervously.

“C’mon, c’mon, almost there… we can fix it. I know you can do this… I just have to do better… c’mon…”

Ignoring the hisses and nervous whispers of his comrades, Merle steps out into the chamber, Solana on his shoulder. He slowly raises his hands and calls gently, “Lucas?”

The man whirls around. “Stay back!” he cries. “You don’t understand! I have to do this, and I can’t let you stop me!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Merle says, inching closer. “I get it, I really do.”

Lucas half laughs, half sobs. “No, you really don’t. You can’t.”

“Lucas… I know. And I know that that’s not your mom. She’s not in there,” the cleric says kindly, softly.

The robot vibrates faster at that, crystal flaking off in larger chunks. It’s looking nearly as agitated as Lucas, who cries, “She is! I don’t… I screwed up, but I can fix it! I can bring her back! I can make this right!”

“Is this what she would want? To be half-alive, never dead and never here? Look at what this is doing to you, Lucas. Would your mom want this?” 

Lucas hesitates, tears forming in his eyes. Merle’s just a few feet from him and the pillar now. Slowly, like approaching a wild animal, Merle stretches out his arm, palm up, offering his hand. “Hey, it’s okay. We can help you. You just -“

But he doesn’t finish that sentence. All in the room had thought the robot was still trapped, still immobilized in the crystal. But it had just been biding its time. As Merle reaches out his hand, it strikes. A long metal limb slashes downward, clawed fingers clutching a shimmering pink disk. It’s so fast, so unexpected, that Merle freezes, can’t even try to dodge. But Solana is a bird of prey, so much faster than a dwarf. She screeches ”No!” and in an instant wraps around and buffets him with her wings, knocking him to the ground. He falls, and the next thing he knows is a strange, needling pain. But he’s not feeling his pain. It’s Solana’s. 

She protected him, she saved Merle, but it came with a price. The robot struck her left wing, and it is slowly beginning to crystallize. Small mercies - the shock of it has knocked her unconscious, and she lies limp on a clear patch of floor. 

The others come running at the scream and skid to a stop at the sight before them. For a second, horror flashes across all their faces, before Taako, with obvious effort, drags back his façade of indifference and something steels on Magnus’s. Lucas is stunned, seemingly unseeing. They watch as pink creeps in from Solana’s pale gold pinion feathers. They only have minutes before it reaches her body, where it would certainly kill her.

The robot appears to have expended most of its energy in its attack, and it now hangs slack, still half trapped in the column. Magnus takes a look, then says, “Lucas, I really hope you have a medical station nearby. Can your daemon carry Solana? I’ve got Merle. We need to _fucking run_.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay. Shit. Okay.” Magnus’s togetherness seems to have startled Lucas out of his funk. His daemon leaps off his shoulder and gently scoops up Solana, carefully not touching her crystallizing wing. She’s not quite unconscious anymore - as she’s lifted, she lets out a low cry. Lucas whirls for a second, then says, “Okay! This way!” and races off down a corridor. Magnus lifts up a groaning Merle and the group rushes after him. 

They find themselves in yet another lab, though this one has a bit more medical flair. Solana is placed on a low, solid table, and Lucas and his daemon dart around the room, rummaging through cabinets, looking for anything that can help. The others just stand there uncertainly until Magnus speaks up. 

There’s something strangely steady about Magnus’s voice as he says, “Taako, I need you to hold Merle.” The dwarf is curled up next to his daemon, leaning against the table, shaking with shock. Taako glances back uncertainly before sitting at his side, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. Magnus continues. “Cal, I need your help.” Feathers ruffled but seeming calm, she nods and gently moves Solana’s body, turning and rotating her a bit. Her crystallizing wing lies limply outstretched, stone nearly reaching her torso now. Cal stands on her other side, whispering comforts to her, and most importantly, distracting her.

Magnus takes a deep breath. “Solana, Merle, I am so goddamn sorry.” And he swings his axe.

There are rules, in the world. There are unspoken laws, instinctive taboos. The greatest of all being _no one touches someone else’s daemon_. People could contact people, and daemons other daemons, but those groups did not cross. It was a violation, as if someone reached into your chest to hold your heart. And Magnus does so much worse than that. 

Solana screams as the axe lands, neatly severing her wing just before the crystal reached her torso. Merle has a split second more warning, and fights Taako with all his might to go to her, to save her. But Taako holds on, eyes screwed shut until a few agonizing moments later when both Solana and Merle fall unconscious. Magnus looks to Taako, tears in his eyes. Taako looks back. “You had to do it,” he states flatly. “She was going to die otherwise. You had to.”

Magnus sits heavily, Cal gently preening his hair. Taako looks around, doing his best to ignore the severed wing, the surprising lack of blood. Lucas is still rummaging through cupboards, surrounded by a bizarre assortment of objects - why was there a plant in the cupboard? Kravitz has wandered off somewhere.

After a few moments, Lucas and his daemon rush over, holding a few syringes, some beakers of suspicious liquid, and a potted plant with trailing vines. Placing everything down on the table, he says “Okay, I have a plan. This is gonna look weird but Merle’s a cleric of Pan, so it should work.” As he talks, his daemon picks up a syringe and injects Solana with something, and Lucas starts pouring chemicals on the plant. It begins to change, leaves elongating, vines twining together.

“Yes I know this is sketchy as hell, but trust me,” he says, gently uprooting the plant. He brushes the dirt off and holds the roots to Solana’s - where Solana’s wing used to be. White tendrils begin to wrap around her torso, securing the plant to her with the dots. Meanwhile, the vines are reshaping. They’re twisting, forming a shape almost like a bone, like the leading edge of Solana’s remaining wing. Once that is completed, smaller vines branch downward, growing long, elegant leaves shaped like feathers. In a few moments, the owl has two wings again - one gold, one green. 

Taako and Magnus stare, while Lucas sighs in relief. However, because apparently he just can’t catch a break, there’s a voice from behind him. “Lucas _fucking_ Miller, by the authority vested in me by the Raven Queen, Goddess of Death and Souls, you are so under arrest right now that it’s not even funny.” 

They whirl around to see Kravitz standing in a doorway behind them. His scythe is unfolded and pointed at Lucas, but what’s more striking is his face. It’s flickering irregularly like a guttering candle. One instant it’s a handsome human man, the next a terrifying white skull. He says, “Get the fuck in here. I’m not letting you out of my sight and you have _so fucking much_ to explain.”

Lucas goes to him, shoulders slumped. The others follow, curious, leaving Merle and Solana to rest. They enter a small side chamber, much like the many other laboratories in the building. However, this one is so much worse. It’s bare except for a strange device in the center, one that makes Magnus, Taako, and Calariel nauseous to look at it. Two large metal cages, eight feet square at least, dominate the room. A small tunnel connects the two, and above that stands what can only be called a guillotine. A silver blade hangs suspended six feet up, swing gently as if in some nonexistent breeze. 

Lucas stammers, “It’s not what it looks like, I can explain-“ But Kravitz cuts him off.

“This is the fucking Maystadt Process. This is a device for intercision, this is so fucking horrific I can’t even look at you. There’s one purpose for this fucking thing and that’s severing, so I want to know exactly who you’ve used this on and why I shouldn’t kill you right now.” Kravitz is incensed.

Magnus turns to the corner and vomits. Lucas stammers, “No- it’s not- you don’t understand-“ but Kravitz just looks angrier and Lucas shrinks back. A small, unfamiliar voice pipes up instead. 

“No, really, you don’t understand,” Lucas’s daemon says from her perch on his back. “We haven’t used it, no one’s been severed. We’d never hurt other people like that, either! We’re not good people, I admit that freely, but we’re not _monsters_. No,” she says, looking down, hesitating. “It was for us. We were going to sever ourselves.”

“Why… why would you ever do that?” Taako hears a voice say, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s his own. Lucas and his daemon look ashamed. 

“The daemon bond is one of the strongest things there is,” the capuchin says. “Not many people know this, but if you break it… there’s a huge release of power. And if you can harness that, you can do some incredible things.”

Lucas, having pulled himself together a bit, takes over. “We tried to bring Mom back. But it only half worked. You can’t just pull someone through the barriers between planes, parts get… lost.” He looks to be on the verge of tears. “So this was the backup. Intercision would create enough power to rip a hole through the plane, to break into the Astral plane and get someone out. We never used it. But… we were running short on options.”

Kravitz looks at a loss for words. “That’s… so many kinds of fucked up but also kinda sweet so I don’t know how to deal with this. But you realize I cannot let you do that? Like, this is against literally everything the Raven Queen stands for.”

“We know,” Lucas’s daemon says quietly. “She’s gone. We can’t get her back. But we had to try.”

“And now you have to end this,” comes a voice from behind, making Taako jump. Merle and Solana, looking exhausted, have entered the room. Solana continues, addressing the capuchin: “You fucked up, but you meant well. So now you have to fix your fuckup. Come on. It’s time to let go.”

Merle leads them back out of the room, back to the chamber with the column of crystal. The robot inside is struggling weakly, but it seems like it never had too much power to begin with. It can’t do anything as the five men and three daemons approach, forming a rough semicircle around it. Merle looks at Lucas.

“It’s time to let go,” he says kindly. Lucas nods, face screwing up.

Lucas walks up to the robot, which begins to twitch and struggle again. Tears stream down his face as he reaches out toward it. “Bye, mom,” he says softly, voice cracking. He opens up a small, near invisible hatch in the torso and reaches inside. He fiddles around for a moment, disconnecting something. The robot dims entirely as he pulls out a small, gently glowing fuse. Choking up, he barely managed to croak out, “I love you.” And he crushes the fuse in his hands.

Energy erupts from the fuse. Like a shockwave, glowing golden light bursts outward, engulfing the laboratory and people within it. There’s no sound, no force, just a gentle glow. And as it fades, the Reclaimers watch in amazement as the crystal begins to recede. It’s slow, it’ll take quite a bit of time, but it’s going. 

Kravitz clears his throat and the others twitch. 

“Dude, I really hope you’re not going to try to fight us now, because that shit was emotionally exhausting,” Taako says. 

“Actually, I see no need for that anymore,” Kravitz says with a small smile. “I came here for a corrupted spirit, severed people, and practitioners of intercision. The spirit has been returned to the astral plane, so that’s that. And Taako, I think we’ve already determined that you, while unique, are definitely not severed, so you’re good to go. And I’ll be confiscating some lab items, but well, they were never used. So quite honestly, I think my work here is done!” 

“Nah, not quite yet, homie,” Taako says. At Kravitz’s puzzled look, the elf tosses him a small wad of paper. As Kravitz unfolds it, he says “That’s my number. Keep in touch, will ya?” And he winks. 

Flustered, Kravitz stammers, “All right, uh, thanks for - assistance. Yeah. Bye!” And he opens a portal and rushes through, closing it behind him. That business finished, the Reclaimers turn to a depressed looking Lucas. He holds out his hands, wrists together.

“Dude, if you think we have handcuffs, you are dramatically overestimating our competence,” Magnus says.

“So what have you learned?” Merle asks in a sing-song voice. Lucas stares at him flatly.

“Dude, I essentially just killed my mom. I’m not doing this right now. Just arrest me and get on with it.” 

“Wellllll…” Magnus says pensively. 

“Well what?” Lucas snaps.

“I mean, we have the alethiometer… And we stopped the crystal… And you seem to realize your fuckup… Hey Lucas, how would you like to be dead?”

“What?” Taako and Merle shriek. “Dude, he just saved my life, I’m not killing him!” Merle shouts. 

“No, no, no,” Magnus backtracks hastily. “I mean _legally_ dead. I mean we tell the Director he died before we could stop the crystal.”

Merle and Taako hum, considering it. Lucas looks flabbergasted. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Because you’re just an overall fuckup, but I get trying to bring back the ones you love,” Magnus says. “So like… I don’t like you, I don’t ever want to see you again, if we ever get sent after you again it’ll really suck for you.”

Merle chimes in. “This is your one free pass, dude. Don’t waste it.” 

Lucas looks at each of them, disbelieving. After a moment, he says, “Okay… Okay. I just… thanks, guys. I’ll - well, no I won’t see you around I guess.”

He turns and heads down the hallway, daemon on his shoulder. As they leave, she gives a tiny wave. 

Magnus sighs. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There was a mesh barrier between them, but he was still part of her, they were still joined. For a second or so more, he was still her own dear soul... The great pale silver blade was rising slowly, catching the brilliant light. The last moment in her complete life was going to be the worst by far." -Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	6. duty of the young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are remembered, forgotten, and uncovered.

A few feet from the bubble, Taako pulls the others aside. “Look,” he says, “I don’t trust the Director. You know that, and you wanted to know why. Well, now I can tell you, now that you know.” He takes a deep breath.

“I’ve kept my lack of daemon a secret my whole life. There’s been… some shit about it in my past, so now _no one_ gets to know. I’ve never met the Director before. If any story had gotten to her, she shouldn’t have been able to connect that to me. She also can’t read the alethiometer, so she shouldn’t have any way of knowing.

“But when we met her, when she introduced herself, she greeted us as five beings. Not three pairs, or six beings, but five. Somehow, she knew. SO maybe she’s got some really good spies, maybe she does incredibly thorough background checks, I don’t know!” he shouts, starting to look flustered. “But she shouldn’t have known, and she did. So yeah, that’s why I don’t trust her. Something’s up.”

“Okay, that’s fucking sketchy. I mean, we worked it out after a while, but… that’s too fast,” Magnus says, frowning. “Could someone have told her?”

“I mean, maybe? But the venn diagram of ‘people who know about me’ and ‘people who could find a secret moon base that erases your memories’ should be, like… us. I dunno, something weird is up, and I just wanted to tell you guys before we go back to her.”

“Yeah, that’s totally fair. For now though, I think we should act like nothing’s changed? If she doesn’t think we’re suspicious of her we might be able to work out more,” Merle says. The other nod.

That decided, they reboard the bubble and take off. As the laboratory shrinks behind them, all are lost in thought. Is the Director lying to them? Is she hiding things? Why?

They don’t know. They don’t even know where to start.

—

Lucretia fidgets nervously as the Reclaimers walk into her office. They look strangely somber, Solana’s wing is… green? and they don’t have Lucas. Something must be terribly wrong. Hiding her anxiety, she stands and asks, “Well, how did it go?”

Magnus replies, hesitantly, “Well… mostly okay? I mean, we stopped the crystal apocalypse from happening, so that’s a plus.”

“Oh, and we got the alethiometer back!” Merle chimes in, handing it to her. She relaxes slightly. Thank the gods, they retrieved it successfully. She steels herself for the hard question.

“And… and Lucas?”

Taako’s almost frighteningly inexpressive. “He didn’t make it,” he says flatly. “We tried, but there was a monster, a robot… it took Solana’s wing, too.” 

What has she done to them? She told Lucas about the alethiometers, she sent them there, it’s her fault that Solana got hurt, that Lucas is dead. And oh gods, Taako. She remembers when he’d laugh, cry, scream, and now he’s just so… apathetic all the time. She just wanted to fix things. This is the only way she can fix things. But the cost… it’s so much. 

She pulls herself together. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ll contact his family, let them know. A memorial service will be arranged. Thank you for all you’ve done. Get some rest, stop by the Fantasy Costco, take a break for a while. I have a few leads on the next alethiometer, but it’ll take me some time to track down. Rest up, do whatever you need to do.” She pauses. Shit, she forgot about Robbie. How’s she going to handle this? Ugh, she has to say something now.

“Also, your roommate has been… moved. He’s currently under arrest for attempting to access and share confidential material. You three have the room to yourselves now.”

They look confused, concerned. Shit, she could’ve handled that better. But she can’t exactly say it’s Barry, that would unravel everything. Gotta stick with it now. 

“There will be an investigation. You may be asked some questions later, as a cursory kind of thing. But don’t worry for now, just rest up. I’ll let you know when I need you for another mission.”

They trail out, still looking concerned. Ugh, she needs to fix that. Maybe she’ll put Killian on the “investigation,” she’s such a straightforward and reliable person the the Reclaimers will trust her. 

She sighs, glancing back behind her desk at the painting. Her best friends smile back at her. Younger, happier friends, without any cares, without the trauma they’ve been through… the trauma she put them through. She didn’t know this would happen. She tried to keep them safe, but she should have guessed at at least some of it. Maybe she could’ve saved Raven’s Roost. She should have predicated Davenport’s…. change, at least a little. And what did she fucking expect, anyway, sending Taako out on his own, without his daemon, his family? This is all her fault.

Arun flutters up to her desk. He’d been away, checking on things around the base, keeping an eye on Angus - because he’s just a boy they need to protect him but there’s no time and he’s in danger- no. Breathe. It’s risky, splitting up like this, but Arun can hide so much better than she can, see so much more.. 

He speaks up, surprising her. Especially since… what they did, years ago, he’s been quiet. He says, softly, “Yeah, we fucked up. Both of us, not just you - I knew what we were getting into. We should have expected some of this, but there’s no way we could have predicted all of it. And we had to, Lucretia, there was no other choice. People were dying.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I know, it just hurts.”

—

The memorial is a few weeks later. Magnus, Merle, Taako, and daemons hang back just outside the doors to the Voidfish’s chambers. How do you act at the funeral for a man who isn’t dead? This isn’t exactly a situation where you can just check fantasy Yahoo Answers and figure it out. Eventually, though, Magnus sighs. “Guess we just gotta get it over with.”

The walk through the door, hanging around the back of the room. Even though the cabinets and general clutter have been moved out for the occasion, the room is still crowded. Though few members of the Bureau really _knew_ Lucas, most knew of him. Most of the moon base’s occupants are in attendance, though only a handful are damp eyed. The Reclaimers fit into the crowd just fine.

A hush falls as the Director steps up next to the tank. In a quiet but clear voice she says, “Whenever a Bureau member falls in the line of duty, we hold the Rites of Remembrance. We are gathered here to remember Lucas Miller one last time. If anybody would like to share any memories, the floor is yours.”

A few people step up, generally the more teary looking ones. They speak of fond memories, of experiments and discovery and accidents and joy. Meanwhile, the three men are growing more uncomfortable by the second. These people all clearly cared about Lucas, and now they’re mourning a completely fabricated tragedy. 

“Should we… say something?” Magnus asks awkwardly.

Taako scoffs. “What, like ‘we faked his death and he’s probably off in hiding doing crazy science shit now?’”

“No, like this,” Merle says, and he steps forward. Sounding a bit choked up, he says, “I didn’t know Lucas Miller before the past few days, but now I’m one of the last to see him alive. That’s a burden I hope to honor. Lucas was a son, a scientist, a very dedicated man. He made some mistakes, but don’t we all? I know he will be missed, and as a cleric of Pan, I _know_ he’s in a better place now, with Pan and the other gods watching over him.” 

Stepping back, he whispers, “Now _that’s_ how you do it!” 

Solana adds a tiny “Booyah!”

Taako and Magnus struggle to keep a straight face as the crowd claps quietly. As the sound fades, the Director steps back up, holding a bundle of papers. “And now that we have all remembered,” she says, “it’s time for others to forget.” And she drops the papers into the Voidfish’s tank, where their tendrils slowly reach out and gather them.

Turning back, she says, “Everyone here has been inoculated against the Voidfish. We bear the weight of carrying on Lucas’s memory, his legacy. For the safety of this organization and the world as a whole, we will be the only ones. He will be forgotten by many… but not all.”

She wipes a hand across her face, looking suddenly exhausted. “Refreshments will be served in the Great Hall shortly. Thank you all for attending, and thank you for remembering.”

The room slowly begins to empty, the three men dawdling so as to not be pulled into the casual conversations they’d have to lie through their teeth to hold. They wander over to the Voidfish, staring up at its starry form. 

“Hey buddy,” Magnus says. “You doing okay?”

The Voidfish chimes a clear, high note, as if in affirmation.

“Can it… talk? I thought we would’ve picked up on that by now,” Merle asks worriedly.

“No, I don’t think so… I just… I don’t know, it seemed like the right thing to ask,” Magnus says, scratching his head. He’s remembering… something, but not quite. It’s like one of those puzzles where if you look too close it’s gibberish, but unfocus your eyes and a picture forms. He lets it sit for a moment…

“I know you!” he says excitedly. “We’ve met before!”

The Voidfish _lights up_. It’s like a firework has gone off. Solana covers her eyes, as blindingly bright flashes are emanating from the tank, along with high, booming notes. 

Magnus continues, “Yeah, I remember now! We came in here a few weeks ago, right? At night! And you sang!”

It’s like the Voidfish shuts off. In an instant the room is dark and silent, the jellyfish-like creature hanging stilly in its tank. Magnus places his hand on the glass. “Hey, did I say something wrong? What’s up?” he says worriedly. 

There’s nothing, for a moment. Then the Voidfish begins emitting these strange pulses of light. While most of its light before was a brilliant white, this is far different. Smooth flashes of a gentle red are accompanied by a seven-note melody. Calariel murmurs, “That’s the same as before. But what does it mean?”

Taako comes back into the room, startling the others who hadn’t even realized he’d left. He’s dragging a lanky, floppy looking man with drooping hair and sad brown eyes who’s apparently just accepted this strange fate. His cricket daemon is peeking out from his hat. “Hey y’all, this is Johan!” Taako announces. “He’s the Bard-in-Residence and he can like, read sheet music and all that shit.”

“Yeah, I can, I guess,” Johan says in a low, sleepy voice. “Why exactly is that relevant? Also, hey dude, you chill?” He asks the Voidfish, who begins to quiet down and dim but doesn’t stop. Glancing over at the Reclaimers, he says, “I’m the Voidfish’s usual caretaker. They like music, and so do I, so we get along pretty well.”

“Great, awesome,” Magnus says. “Hey Johan, can you tell us what that song is?”

“I mean, that’s kinda vague,” Johan mumbles. “It’s a melody? It’s a song they sing a lot? It’s the notes E-G-G-B-A-B-E? It’s- ”

“Perfect, thanks man,” Magnus says with a smile, and then Taako reverses his drag and near launches Johan back out the door. There’s a fading “You’re welcooooooome!” followed by a slight crash. 

“E-g-g… Hey dude, do you have a kid? An egg babe?” Magnus asks.

And the fireworks show is back, this time so bright everyone almost steps back a step. “Whoa, okay, we get it! Kid! Yes! Please don’t blind us!” Taako shrieks. The Voidfish calms down, now singing the melody in a quieter, happier way.

“Okay, one flash for no and two for yes,” Magnus says. “You have a baby?”

_Flash flash._

“Are they somehow with you in there?”

_Flash._

“Do you know where they are?”

_Flash._

“Do you want us to find them?”

 _Flash flash flASHFLASHFLASHFLASH-_ The Voidfish is now flickering like a strobe light.

“Okay, okay, got it!” Magnus says excitedly, shielding his eyes. He turns to the others, and Calariel says “Guys, we gotta find their kid!”

“I mean okay, another weird problem we get to solve now, but sure, whatever, we can add this to the stack,” Taako says. “Dude’s gotta have their family.”

Merle sighs. “So, we’re not telling the Director about this either, are we.”

“Nope!” Magnus says cheerfully, backed up by an especially bright _flash!_

“Wonderful,” Merle says. “Okay, fine. Can we go get some snacks now? Pretending to be sad really takes it out of me.”

And so the men and daemons leave, waved on by a gently fluttering tendril.

 

None of them notice the tiny, dark loon daemon tucked just behind the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “That’s the duty of the old, to be anxious on behalf of the young. And the duty of the young is to scorn the anxiety of the old.” -Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	7. creatures of a brief season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Refuge. Something's not right here.

A few days after Lucas’s memorial service, the Reclaimers are yet again called into the Director’s office. She looks more grim, more concerned than usual.

“So, I’ve found the location of the next alethiometer. It’s in a place called Woven Gulch, a desert canyon a few hours southwest of Phandalin.” She sighs, resting her head in one hand. “That’s… well, that’s about all I can help with on that front. There’s a magic barrier covering a few square miles in the bottom of the Gulch. We haven’t been able to find out much about it - magic doesn’t seem to go through, and the alethiometers start to fritz out if you ask about it.”

“Wait, so how do you expect us to be able to get in?” Merle asked, brow furrowing. The Director sighs again.

“I don’t. The best we’ve managed to figure out is that there’s some… conscious force involved, so it may choose to let you in. Or not, we don’t know. But we have to try. We need to retrieve the alethiometers as soon as we can.”

Taako lets out a suspicious “mmm-hmmm” sound, and the Director’s eyes sharpen. “I know I haven’t been completely forthright about everything,” she says, slightly snappish. “But you have to trust me. I know you think I’m up to something - seriously, the rumor mill on this base is absurd. I know you dislike me, that you don’t trust me,” she continues, hands shaking, “but there’s no other option. We can’t let these devices fall into the hands of those who would use them for evil. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. I really wish I could. I’m trusting you with so much on this, I just need you to trust me in return.”

Taako is silent. Merle looks apprehensive. Magnus sighs. “Fine,” he says. “We’d really appreciate if you could actually explain this shit instead of sending us in blind, because from our perspective, we’re stealing from people to protect these alethiometers from some sort of children’s book villains. Like, you’ve told us Red Robes are rogue witches, great. But that means nothing to us! You could call us rogue magic users too, since I’m pretty sure this whole moon base situation is shady as fuck. So I know you can’t tell us everything, but as a show of good faith can you at least explain who we’re up against here?” Calariel lets out a low cry, and Magnus holds crossed fingers behind his back.

The Director pauses for a second, then says, “Fine, that’s fair. The Red Robes are liches. They’re magic users who severed their souls, which generally both makes a being undead and destroys their daemons. It’s something that goes against all the laws of nature, so I hope you understand why people like that shouldn’t be trusted with potential omnipotence. I’m not sure what they would do with the alethiometers, but I don’t intend to find out.”

Magnus nods. “Thank you, that helps a lot.” He looks at his friends, who shrug.

“Yeah, fine, that works,” Taako says. “Oh, one more thing…”

“Yes?” The Director responds, slightly nervous.

“Is there like, a Fantasy Target on this base somewhere? If we’re going to the desert we need some new summer looks,” he says, a gleam in his eye. 

The Director sighs yet again, but she sounds happier about it. “I mean, this is a fairly urgent mission, but what the hell, sure, we can spare an hour for a shopping montage. Go talk to Garfield at the Fantasy Costco and he’ll get you set up.”

 

Just under two hours later, a flying glass bubble touches down in the middle of a red, rocky desert, on the edge of a cliff. The three Reclaimers emerge, now dressed in summery shorts and skirts. Somewhere, Solana also managed to find aviator sunglasses and Cal found a baseball cap emblazoned with a Goldcliff University logo. They look ridiculous, but their counterparts are too delighted to tell them that. 

Taako wanders over to the edge of the cliff and peers down. “Looks like we’ve got quite a hike ahead of us, boys!” He calls. Seemingly miles below a river crashes against the rocks, kicking up white spray and rainbows in the mist. There’s a point where the mist seems to condense, forming the rough shape of a dome. Magnus joins Taako and peeks over the edge. “Yeah, I’d guess that’s our destination,” he says, referring to the dome. “Well, we’d best get started!” He cautiously begins down a narrow, switchbacking path carved into the cliff. Taako follows with a carefree hair flip, while Merle begins to mutter under his breath about heights and falling and terminal velocity. 

Hot, sweaty, and dehydrated, they finally reach the bottom after a few hours of hiking. Ignoring the fact that he’s fully clothed, Magnus cannonballs into a calmer looking patch of water. Calariel soars high overhead, the only one of them unbothered by the heat. Merle and Taako sit on the edge of the water, dipping their toes in and taking a good look at the barrier before them.

It seems to have been formed out of the river’s spray. Just a few yards from where Magnus jumped in, a pearlescent wall rises sharply above the water, arcing into a ceiling hundreds of feet above. Rainbows play across its surface, and the substance itself seems to shift like clouds. The river flows into it, seemingly unaffected by the barrier. But despite its filmy appearance, it’s completely opaque. Taako slowly approaches and reaches out his umbrella to… poke it, or something.

Magnus, being Magnus, pops his head up out of the water and sticks his hand through it. Merle yells, “I reserve the right to chop of _your_ arm this time!” 

But Magnus just turns around and smiles, pulling his arm out of the wall. “Guys, it’s fine, nothing happened, we’re good!”

Taako mutters, “That’s some real shit science, my guy,” but Magnus ignores him, yelling, “Come on! We’ve got a weird magical artifact to find!” 

And with that, he charges through the barrier, Cal diving in as well. Merle, Solana, and Taako share a resigned look and follow him.

 

For a moment, they float in whiteness. Like smoke, the shimmering material that makes up the barrier shifts around them. It clears for just a moment, revealing an odd sight. A beautiful older woman stands before them, smiling benevolently. Her hair floats out in a gentle wave, sparkling with iridescent gems beaded into the pale tresses. She gives a little wave. “Oh good, you’re here!” She says, sounding thrilled. “About time! Now come find me!” 

Everything blurs to white again, then fades to black. 

 

When their vision clears, they find themselves in… a city, of sorts. A few small buildings and a ramshackle clock tower line the banks of the river, surrounding a singular dock. Over the dock is a sign proclaiming “Welcome to Refuge” and four humanoid statues made of a metal that matches the red of the canyon walls. However, the true city lies in the river. Dozens of boats line its banks, connected by catwalks and cables with smaller dinghies puttering between them. The boats range in size from tiny sailboats to wide, imposing flatboats, and in elegance comparable to the finest parts of Goldcliff or the scummiest caverns of Phandalin. A slight shimmer in the distance is the only indicator of the bubble surrounding the floating town. 

The Reclaimers stop and stare for a few moments. “Well, that was not what I expected,” Magnus says blankly. “Who… do we worry about that?” 

“Okay, this just got kinda weird, yeah,” Taako agrees. “But nah, she looked friendly enough! Let’s go see what’s up, and if we can get like snacks or something because I am _so_ not drinking that river water!” 

As they speak, though, they are approached by a curious figure. One of the statues has moved away from the group, and as it comes closer the three men can see that it isn’t a statue at all. Instead, it’s a massive humanoid in a set of plate armor, a tiny red bird in a cowboy hat perched on its shoulder. 

“Howdy, y’all!” they say, in a voice that’s higher than they expected. “Oh gosh, this is a surprise, we don’t get many visitors. But welcome to Refuge! I’m Roswell, Deputy Sheriff Roswell. What are your names?”

“Well I’m Taako, and those two lugs are Merle and Magnus.” They wave awkwardly as Taako continues. “Pardon my pushing, but we have _quite_ a few questions. First off, sorry, but what _are_ you?”

Roswell chuckles. “Okay, that’s a bit rude, but I get it. I’m a golem! I was created to keep the peace in this town, and I’m quite good at it if I do say so myself.”

“Alright, rad,” Taako says. “Next rude question: is this a town or just a shit ton of boats?”

“Why can’t it be both?” Roswell’s still surprisingly happy despite the inconsiderate inquiries. “Refuge is a town, it’s just a town that moves. You may have heard of the Gyptian people?” At hesitant nods, they go on. “Well, we’re Gyptian! We’re a nomadic culture, so… Refuge is, by definition, wherever these boats are. We’ve been here for a good few years, but eventually we’ll move and the town will go with us! Oh, actually, take a look over here!” They lead the newcomers over to the statues on the dock. Closer up, it’s possible to make out what they’re meant to be. On the left is a small girl, hair done up in braids and a Gila monster on her shoulder. On the right, a tall, noble looking man in weathered western style clothing stands proud, a jackrabbit by his feet. But what really catches their attention is the figure in the middle: a humanoid cloaked in a robe, face obscured. The metal of its form has turned a dark, rust-red color that reminds them uncomfortably of their encounter in Lucas’s laboratory.

Aiming for a casual tone, Merle asks, “Hey Roswell, who are these fine folks?”

They pipe up enthusiastically, “Well, they’re the ones who led us to settle here! The little girl there is June, and the man is her guardian, Jack. He was mayor here, for a time. And then the one in the middle, well, we just call them The Stranger. But they brought us here, helped out our community, it’s great. By their sacrifice our home is made safe!”

As they rattle off that last phrase, Magnus notices the writing on the statue’s base that says the same odd words. A chill goes down his spine. There’s something weird about this statue, something that’s making him profoundly uncomfortable. Calariel, too; her feathers are fluffing up with unease. 

Taako nudges Magnus and loudly whispers, “Dude, look; no daemon!” And he’s right, as Magnus takes a second look - both Jack and June have their daemons prominently displayed, as honored as they are, but the central robed figure seems to have no daemon at all. Despite the hot desert sun, Magnus feels a chill. 

“Okay…” Merle says slowly. “What’s this about a sacrifice?”

Roswell finally seems a bit uncomfortable, and scratches their neck. “Well, uh, it’s not a thing we really discuss much,” they say hesitantly. “I’m really not the best to ask, Isaak could explain it better. He’s the Sheriff in this town, I’m sure he’ll be around soon for you to meet him. Meanwhile, I really need to get back to work, but see that big flatboat with the lights?”

They point across the river at a long, low boat with a large cabin. Inside it, gas lamps twinkle and some low music can be heard. Roswell continues, “That’s the _Davy Lamp_ , the local tavern. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of people to chat with in there!” And saying so, they give a little wave and return to the largest building by the docks, which they can now see is labeled Sheriff’s Office. As they go in, there’s a whistle from the side. 

“Hey! Yoo-hoo! New guys! Come on over, give me a hand? “

Curious, Merle wanders over, followed by the others. As they approach, they see that the other side of the building is labeled, in big block letters, JAIL. A scrawny arm is waving out of a barred window. At his insistent hissing, Magnus resignedly picks up Merle so he can look inside. 

He’s met with the grinning face of a very grimy half-orc woman. Her hair is frizzed in a halo around her head and she’s missing at least a few teeth, but she looks like she’s never been happier to see anyone in her life. She continues “Ah, hello there, my new friends! I don’t suppose you’d be willing to do me a favor?”

Taako immediately starts saying “Nope, nuh-uh, no way, nada-“ but is drowned out by Merle.

“Sure,” he says cautiously. “What’s the favor?” 

“Well, you see, I have been rather unjustly imprisoned on trumped-up charges, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d just… wander your way inside, grab that lovely old ring of keys, and let me go!”

Immediately, Magnus calls toward the building, “Hey Roswell!”

As the deputy walks out, the woman mutters, “Well, you’re no fun,” and slinks away from the window. Her daemon, a scruffy looking mule, blows a raspberry. 

Magnus asks, “Hey Roswell, my very good friend. Why is this woman in prison? She seems rather insistent that she shouldn’t be.”

Incredulously, they reply, “Uh, Cassidy’s been charged with misuse of explosives, arson, possession of mining grade explosives without a license… do I need to continue?”

“Nope, thanks buddy!” Magnus says cheerfully, and Roswell returns inside, shaking their head. 

Merle looks back to Cassidy. “Yeah, sorry, looks like a prison break’s just not in the cards today. Besides, sounds like you’re _way_ more qualified on that front than we are!” She sticks out her tongue at them and Magnus gently drops Merle. He trots off toward the river, calling “Come on! Tavern means food, and not dying of dehydration!”

Carefully, they hopscotch their way across the boats, platforms, and ladders necessary to get to the _Davy Lamp_. A few times, gaps are so wide that Magnus has to pick up Merle and throw him, but they make it eventually. Upon reaching the correct boat, Taako confidently throws open the door and strolls in, followed by his companions.

Inside, they’re met by what seems like any other tavern, if you ignore the slight rocking of the hanging lamps. The walls are a dark wood paneling, matched by the rustic but sturdy wooden tables and stools. This certainly must be a hotspot of the town - various individuals are seated at the tables, chatting or playing cards or just drowning their sorrows. Despite the bustle, there appears to be only one employee. A young dark elf girl stands cleaning glasses behind the bar, seemingly caught up in her task. Taako approaches her with a swagger, saying “Hey there! I was told this was the place to get a drink and some gossip?”

She looks up at him and drops a glass with a gasp. Her daemon, a small pallid bat, peeks out of her long, dark hair as she says, “Oh my god, you’re Taako! From TV!” 

He stiffens. “Yes, yes I am,” he says curtly. 

“Oh, gosh, sorry,” she says, lowering her voice. “That was rude. My name’s Ren, it’s great to meet you! I just- you’re my _hero!_ ” 

Taako was _not_ expecting that, and he lets out a startled squawk. “I’m- _what?_ ”

“You’re my hero! I saw you when you toured the Underdark, what was it, two years back? It was right before I came here! You were so good, you inspired me to learn how to cook!” She continues, almost babbling. Taako’s pulled his normal, flippant façade back up.

“Oh, yeah, I think I remember you! Little girl, front row?” He asks, lying through his teeth. When she nods excitedly, he says, “Awesome! Okay, I’m trusting you with a secret here, Ren. I’d rather be inconspicuous while in town, so don’t tell anyone I’m here, okay?” 

Ren nods again, looking thrilled. “Oh gosh, this is so cool - here, have these! On the house!” she says, pushing three tankards to Taako. “And don’t worry, my lips are sealed!” She says, miming zipping them. Taako gives her a wink and then frantically drags his companions to an empty table.

“Okay, something is seriously wrong here,” he says, nervous.

“What, that you have fans?” Merle scoffs. Taako doesn’t find it funny.

“ _Yes_ , that I have fans!” he insists. “That shit went down what, two, three years ago? Yet _she didn’t know_. That’s when she thought I toured the Underdark, but that was _six_ years ago. I don’t know if there’s some magic amnesia bullshit going on, but she doesn’t know what happened over the past like, four or five years. Something’s wrong.” 

“Yeah, that’s weird,” Magnus says, frowning. “I wonder…”

But his musings are stopped by a sudden rattling. From the bar, Ren calls out, “Earthquake! Everybody get down!” The men and daemons duck under their table, but it’s soon apparent that that will do them little good. Unlike an earthquake’s quick passing, the shaking is only growing, and it almost looks like the _Davy Lamp_ is… disintegrating? Cracks form in the walls, tables, everywhere, and a bright white light is shining through. The tavern’s occupants shut their eyes as white light engulfs the room, and open them to see the misty white space from before. Ren and the other patrons are gone, but before them stands the same woman as last time. She’s now occupied with what appears to be knitting, with strands of myriad colors floating out in all directions. She casually glances over at the reclaimers. “See, you’ll get it!” She calls, and there’s another white flash.

They open their eyes, and they see not the white space, or the astral plane, but the red stone walls of Woven Gulch and the figure of Roswell approaching.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, in unison-

“What the fuck!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "...men pass in front of our eyes like butterflies, creatures of a brief season. We love them; they are brave, proud, beautiful, clever; and they die almost at once." -Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	8. doubt, and danger, and fathomless mysteries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako schemes, Merle evangelizes, and Magnus talks. And cries.

The men and daemons stand stunned for an instant. In the distance, a bell rings out eleven times, something Taako vaguely remembers hearing before. He is starting to get an inkling of what’s up, but before he can say anything like, “Hey, are we in a fucking time loop?” Roswell approaches. The russet golem says, “Howdy, y’all! Oh gosh, this is a surprise, we don’t get many visitors. But welcome to Refuge! I’m Roswell, Deputy Sheriff Roswell. What are your names?”

Okay, yeah, time loop. Taako thinks fast.

“Hey there Deputy Sheriff! I’m Taako, this is Merle and Magnus. We’re on vacation, thought we’d get out and get some sun, but oh boy is it hotter than we expected. Anywhere in this lovely town where we can get something to drink?”

“Yes, definitely!” Roswell replies, sounding cheery. “That big, shiny flatboat over there is the _Davy Lamp_ , the local tavern. Go, rest and drink up, you look tired! I’ll be here if you ever need help or just a chat!” And with that, they return to their office.

Taako turns to the others. “Okay, we’re caught in some time travel bullshit. I want answers, and I have a couple ideas where to start. First off, though, let’s talk to Ren. She’s… she’s good.” And with that, he starts traversing the treacherous path to the local tavern. Magnus and Merle, happy that someone at least has an idea of what to do, follow. 

Taako saunters into the _Davy Lamp_ , looking more confident than he feels. He likes Ren, she seems like a wonderful person, he’d really rather not be manipulative. But he needs to know what’s going on, and this is the best way to do it. He takes a deep breath and strolls up to the bar, where again Ren is cleaning some glasses. He hisses a quiet “pssst!” As she looks up and gasps, one hand is already out to catch the glass she drops. The other holds a finger to his lips. He says, quietly, “Hey there. My name’s _Justin_ ,” he says with a big wink and a grin. She laughs a little, seeming somewhat shocked but thrilled and willing to play along, so he continues. “I’m here scouting for a couple days, but I need to keep it on the down low, if you catch my drift. But I’m not familiar with the area and was wondering if you’d be willing to help me out?”

“Yes, definitely, absolutely!” Ren babbles. “Oh my gosh, okay, this is crazy. What can I do?”

“To start I was wondering if you could just… sketch up a rough map? Point out landmarks, the like? I’ve brought me team here with me,” he gestures at Magnus and Merle, “and we’d like to get some scenery shots, some b-roll, you know,” Taako says, lying as skillfully as he can. It’s been a while since he was in showbiz, and every reminder scrapes at him. But this is the best tactic, as shown by Ren frantically pulling out some napkins and a pen. 

“Okay, map, yeah! I can do that.” She draws two long, parallel lines on the napkin. “So this is the Woven River, it formed the Gulch. We’re here,” she says, drawing a little boat in the center of the water. “Just off the bank here are the sheriff’s office, the clock tower, oh, the statues! Those would be a lovely backdrop, be sure to check them out!” she continues, making little marks on the napkin for each thing she names. “Not a lot of real landmarks left… The rapids at the edge of town, but I’d avoid those if possible,” she says, drawing an aggressive scribble at the end of the river. 

Magnus leans forward. “Why would we want to avoid those?” 

“Oh, they’re _real_ dangerous,” Ren says earnestly. “A team went out just this mornin’ to try and move some rocks, make things safer, but it all went to hell. I think Cassidy’s the only one who made it out, and she’s in jail now for endangerin’ the others. So don’t go there, please, it’s just not safe.”

“Duly noted,” Taako says, thinking. “Any people in town you think we should meet, to get a better idea of things. Like, I’d love if Magnus here could interview you since you seem to understand the town so well, but any other interesting folks around?” 

Ren blushes. “Well, Jack and Sheriff Isaak for sure, I’m nowhere near as interestin’ as them. Deputy Sheriff Roswell, too. Er… Wouldn’t recommend most people in the bar, or Cassidy. These folks don’t say much, and Cassidy won’t stop! Hmmm…” She thinks for a moment. “Oh! Paloma could be good!” She exclaims, marking a little star on the river far upstream of the town. “She’s good, she knows things. Like, knows the future type things, she does prophecies and they’re pretty solid.” The three men exchange a meaningful glance at that one. 

Taako stands up. “This is wonderful, Ren, thanks so much. I’m gonna sit down and talk with my team for a moment, then we might have some more questions, if that’s alright?” 

She smiles. “Of course, happy to help! And here,” she shoves three tankards across the counter. “On the house.”

With smiles of thanks, they take the drinks and sit down at a nearby table. Magnus takes a sip. “Okay, I was expecting alcohol or something, but this is some _fantastic_ sarsaparilla.”

“Yeah, drink up, but focus on the plan,” Taako says. “We’ve got some people to find. Magnus, you’re rustically hospitable, think you can charm Roswell into telling you more about Jack and Isaak and that statue?”

Magnus nods, solemnity ruined by a foam mustache from the sarsaparilla. “Yup, I’m on it.” He hold out his tankard to Cal, who takes a tiny, dignified sip.

Taako then turns to Merle. “Religious people visit prisoners, right? That’s a thing?” 

“Oh yes definitely! I remember one time, when I was a young Pannite -“

“Great, good, save the story for Cassidy. You get to figure out the deal with the rapids, and if that’s connected to the fact that the fucking river seems to disintegrate. If this loops consistently, I’d give us like 45 minutes before shit falls apart again.”

“Where are you going?” Magnus asks curiously.

Taako says, “I’m going to see this Paloma. I think some predictions of the future could be really fucking handy at the moment. And I have an idea.” He looks over to the bar and calls, “Hey! Ren! Got a minute?” 

She walks over rapidly, long skirt bouncing. Taako asks, “Hey, could you come with me to Paloma’s? I’m a bit… unorthodox looking, I’d rather not show up by myself alone at some poor woman’s house. But you seem to know just about everyone and everything in this town, I was hoping you could introduce me?”

Ren thinks for a moment, then nods decisively. “I can take my lunch break a bit early, yeah.” She turns to the tavern as a whole and shouts “Hey y’all, clear out! I’ll be back by 12:30!” As she speaks, she deftly plaits her hair into two long braids, her bat daemon clinging on to one. When she turns back, Taako extends an elbow with a mock bow and giggling, Ren takes it. The quartet then exit the tavern and separate, off to their respective tasks. 

  --- 

Magnus and Merle walk together to Roswell’s office. Magnus stops just outside the door and turns to Merle. He says, “Okay, dude, remember you’re not really here to convert her. That’s the cover. You want to ask questions about the rapids.”

Merle replies cheerily, “I don’t see why I can’t do both!” Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose and knocks on the door. 

It’s opened by a cheery looking Roswell. “Oh, hi again guys!” they say. “What can I help y’all with?”

“Well, my friend here is a cleric of Pan, and he was really hoping he could talk to prisoners, do the whole emissary thing…” Magnus says. 

Merle perks up, raising his Xtreme Teen Bible high. “I just know that they could benefit from hearing some divine advice!” 

Magnus makes a face over the dwarf’s head at Roswell, shrugging. “I’m just along for the ride.”

Roswell thinks for a moments, and says, “Well, er, I guess you couldn’t hurt? We just have the one inmate at the moment, Cassidy. You can find her just around the back of this building, Merle. And Magnus, why don’t you come inside? I don’t get to talk to new people much, it’d be nice to just have a chat about the world beyond Refuge.”

Acting nonchalant, Magnus says “Sure, that would be great!” and follows Roswell into the sheriff’s office. Merle, meanwhile, heads around back to see Cassidy.

Without Magnus, Merle has to drag over a bench he can stand on in order to see in the small cell’s window. Just like last time, Cassidy’s scruffy form and mangy mule daemon can be seen inside. Merle clears his throat, ready to share the word of Pan, but he’s met with unholy screeching. 

“Who are _you?!_ ” Cassidy yells, scrambling to the bars. “You’re new, hello, where did you come from?” Her face is pushing against the bars as she says this, forcing Merle back a bit. Nevertheless, he soldiers on.

“My name is Merle, uh, Highchurch, and I am an emissary of Pan!” He declaims proudly. “I am here to-“

“Pan? Don’t need no pans, here. I can’t cook in a cell!”

Merle stops, dumbfounded. “No, like… not _a_ pan, Pan. The god Pan. God of nature, all that jazz?”

Cassidy considers for a moment, then says “Nope! Never heard of him!”

“Okay, uh… well, he’s real good, and you should consider worshipping him?” Merle says, thrown off his rhythm. Alright, so that half of his mission is a wash. Time for the other bit.

“Maybe he could help you with your job! What do you do?” Merle asks, trying to act as neutrally cheery as he can. Apparently he asked the wrong question though, because Cassidy shrinks back into her cell, looking suspicious.

“Why do you wanna know? You’re not some kinda _gerblin_ , are you?” She asks, and Merle resists the urge to slam his head against the bars.

“No, I am a dwarf. I’m just making small talk here! Just trying to be friendly!” Merle exclaims, exasperated. Cassidy inches closer.

“Well, you don’t _look_ like a gerblin… Your daemon’s way too pretty for that.” Solana preens and Cassidy looks reassured. 

“Yep, _clearly_ not a gerblin here,” Merle says. “So now can we have a civil conversation?”

“I guess, sure,” Cassidy replies. “What’cha wanna know?”

“Well, why are you in here, for one?” Merle asks, relieved to be getting _somewhere_.

Cassidy perks up. “Oh, it’s lies and slander! Slanderous lies! I work demolitions ‘round these parts, and we were gonna fix up the rapids near the end of town. Shoulda been easy, except for the durn sabotaging gerblins!”

Merle leans forward, ignoring the generally rank smell of the cell. “What did these gerblins do?”

Seeming thrilled to have someone listening to her, Cassidy says, “They screwed with my explosives! I was so careful with placement, and they moved my damn dynamite! When it went off, instead of clearing the rocks from the river they just shattered and fell and made everything even worse!” Her voice goes somber for a moment. “I never woulda done that. I know my way around some dynamite, and their damn sabotage killed two of my crew.”

“I believe you, Cassidy,” Merle says softly. He really does, is the weird thing. Cassidy’s strange, but she doesn’t seem like a killer. “Maybe I can convince the Sheriff too. Can I ask a couple more questions?”

“Sure, shoot,” Cassidy replies. “It sure is nice havin’ someone on my side.”

“Did you actually see… the gerblins move the explosives?” Merle asks, thinking.

“Well… only kinda,” Cassidy admits. “I saw someone pokin’ around, but I couldn’t tell who. It musta been a gerblin, though! No one in town would do anythin’ like that!”

Merle’s reserving his judgement on that one, but it’s nice to know Cassidy actually has some proof. He glances over at the clock - oof, almost noon. Time for one more question. 

“Why were you even clearing the rocks to begin with? Just general safety?”

“Well, yes and no,” Cassidy says. “They’re a dangerous mess, but the bigger thing is you can’t take any good sized boats through ‘em. And Jack and June were gettin’ restless, wanted to head downstream. We were clearing the rocks the help them out.” 

Merle glances back at the clock tower, and rattles off “Thanks Cassidy you’ve been so helpful hope you get out of prison see you soon and don’t forget about the word of Pan!”

She only manages to say a startled “Huh?” before the world shatters around them, and all goes white. 

 --- 

Magnus follows Roswell into their office. It’s simple - the same rough wood as the rest of the town, two large desks on opposite sides of the room, and a pile of filing cabinets. Roswell squeezes behind one of the desks, the red bird settling on a perch in front of them. As Magnus pulls up a chair, Cal settles on the perch as well.

“So, news outside town…” Magnus says, thinking. “How long has it been since you’ve last been out and about?” He’s going to have to be careful with timing - Roswell’s been trapped in a time bubble for years, it wouldn’t be good to hint at that with incongruities. Fuck, who was president six years ago? Do they even have a president?

But Roswell shrugs. “Well, actually, I never have,” they say. “I was only made, like… two weeks ago? With Jack leaving, they needed another person to help run this place, so he made me to help Isaak.” 

“Oh, huh, okay,” Magnus says. Well, at least he doesn’t have to worry about sharing too much. “So, what do you want to know?”

“Well…” Roswell asks, almost shyly, “What’s it like where you’re from? I don’t really have a point of reference.”

Magnus freezes. He’s silent so long that Roswell says, “Sorry, did I say something wrong?”

He forces himself to speak. “No, you’re fine. It’s just… memories.” He’s never spoken about Raven’s Roost since he left. It was too raw, too close to share. But here… the people, the town, they’re so different and yet the closest he’s felt to home in over a decade. Fuck it, in an hour Roswell won’t remember anyway.

So he begins. “I’m from a little town, sort of like this one. Except instead of being tucked within the cliffs, it soared high above…”

He talks for almost the whole hour. He starts with the basics - the location, its history, the things he could tell anyone. But he drifts, first to the Hammer and Tongs, then to Steven, and finally to Julia. Cal curls in close to him as he speaks, voice fading in sadness. He doesn’t talk about the rebellion, about Kalen, about how things ended. He can’t. Roswell listens, silent but supportive.

Magnus eventually winds to a stop, breathing ragged and tears in his eyes, but a smile on his face. Despite how it ended, he’d been happy in Raven’s Roost. It’s nice to remember the good, and to share it with someone who understands. 

“Thank you, Magnus,” Roswell says softly. “I wish I could tell you about this town, but… I just don’t have much to say. It’s home, it’s always been home. I barely know its people yet.” 

“I’m sure you have some stories in you,” Magnus says, smiling. Despite his earlier insistences to Merle, Magnus is intentionally throwing his whole plan out the window. He can’t just interrogate this poor person, not after talking about Raven’s Roost with them. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be genuinely curious.

“Well, I don’t have any real stories of my own, but I have been told a few!” Roswell says, and they start on a story from Ren’s youth, her arrival in Refuge as a scared young teen. Magnus listens, enraptured. 

“…And then, of course, she became really close to June, since their experiences were so similar! Oh, it’s going to be hard for both of them when June leaves…” Roswell trails off. Magnus frowns.

“Wait, why is June leaving?” He’s never met the girl, but he’s starting to get attached through the stories.

“Oh, she and her pa, Jack, are just wanderers. More wanderers than us, even. They showed up a few years back with the Stranger, and now they’re ready to get going again,” Roswell says, shrugging. “We’ll miss them, but they’ve gotta do their thing.”

“Oh, huh,” Magnus says. “Wait, so the Stranger didn’t stay?”

“Nah, they barely stopped by from what I heard. They found the other two while they were all wandering the desert. I don’t think the Stranger was doing so hot? I think Jack and June helped them out, and then they brought the pair here. June says the Stranger gave them a gift, but wouldn’t say what. And then they just left! I don’t think we even got their name.” Roswell says, happy to tell someone who doesn’t yet know the story. Magnus is intrigued, but out of time.

“Thanks, Roswell,” he says sincerely. “It was great talking to you. Thank you for listening, and all. You might want to close your eyes, now. It helps.”

Roswell asks, “Wait, what?” and lets out a yelp as the world begins to rattle and glow. Magnus leans back and closes his eyes, only opening them when he’s back in that white space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Behind them lay pain and death and fear; ahead of them lay doubt, and danger, and fathomless mysteries. But they weren't alone." - Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	9. subject to the fates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako and Ren talk to Paloma. Some things become clearer, and some get even more layered in bullshit.

Paloma’s home is apparently a rickety old houseboat. It doesn’t look quite watertight, and the paint is flaking, but it almost exudes a feeling of _home_. Chipped but colorful flowers decorate the bow, where they weave through the name _Sunflower_. The cabin itself is a summery green clapboard, complementing the warm red of the surrounding cliffs. As Taako and Ren approach the door, they’re greeted by a sound like wind chimes and the smell of something amazing baking. Taako hangs back, nervous for some indescribable reason, while Ren knocks smartly on the door.

“Auntie Paloma!” she calls, “I found a friend for you!”

Ren ducks, confusing Taako until the top half of the door swings open with a bang, passing through where her head had been. A short woman pokes her head out, white hair swinging free of its bun and gold framed glasses glinting. 

“Oh, it is so good to meet new friends!” She says happily in an accent Taako’s never heard before. “Come in, come in, scones are just out of the oven!”

“Wait, you didn’t mention that she was your aunt!” he hisses at Ren. 

“Oh, she’s not really,” Ren calls back over her shoulder. “She’s more like everyone’s aunt!”

Bemused, Taako follows a laughing Ren into the tiny cabin. He has to shield his eyes as flashes of multicolored light gleam. After a moment, he realizes that hanging from the ceiling of the rustic cabin are hundreds of kaleidoscopic crystals. They sway gently with the rocking of the boat, making the tinkling sound he heard from outside. Some are the size of beads, and some are as big as a person’s hand. The largest is probably about the size of Taako’s forearm, and it hangs directly over the doorway. Taako ducks under that one fast - it looks like if it fell it would hurt. There’s not really a lot of space in the room, so he almost runs into a rustic wooden dining table, where Paloma is just now placing a steaming tray of scones.

“Alright, take a seat, have a scone. Are you here to chat? I love to chat. Ren, meet any nice young ladies lately?” Paloma chatters away and Ren blushes. 

“No, Auntie, that’s not why we’re here.” She gestures at Taako. “This is Taako, he’s famous! I mean, he runs a cooking show, they’re touring here, he wanted to meet interesting locals to interview!” Ren is beaming, but Paloma eyes Taako narrowly.

“So! A celebrity! Yes, I think we can have quite a good chat. Ren, be a dear and fetch an extra lantern from the _Davy Lamp_ while I ask Taako here some of the boring logistics?”

“Uh, sure!” Ren replies, startled, but she exits the cabin. Paloma’s now smiling at Taako again.

“Okay, let’s cut the bullshit!” she chirps. “Do you want to tell me why you’re really here and why you lied to that nice young girl?” 

“Because if I told most people in this town that they were trapped in a time loop, they wouldn’t believe me,” Taako says flatly, and Paloma’s eyebrows go up to her hairline. “But I was told you can tell the future, so maybe you can help me stop it.”

“Oh, maybe, maybe. I can at least point you in the right direction, young man!” she says, moving around the room. “Go on, take a scone, you’re all bones. Also, a few prophecies wouldn’t be amiss!” 

She wipes her hands on her sunflower apron and snatches a white crystal down from the ceiling. She smashes it on the ground and turns to Taako, stray hairs floating out around her. She says in a much deeper, unaccented voice, “You are close to your goal, but you are missing what you need. You will find it at the Temple of Istus."

“Ooooookay,” Taako says slowly. “So, where’s that? Who’s Istus?”

Paloma smiles. “Ah, she’s a lesser known goddess, for sure, but I think she’ll be able to help you out. She certainly owes me a favor or two!” She rummages in a drawer and pulls out a scrap of old recipe card. On the backside, she draws a rough map of the cliffs, and marks a star near the base of one side, just beyond the town.

“Here is where the trail to her temple starts. Take your friends, they need to know too.”

Taako takes the card, thinking. Godly intervention would sure be nice. All they’ve got on their side is Pan and while he’s helped before, Taako doesn’t think time travel falls quite in his sphere of influence. Hopefully this Istus, whoever she is, can help. He takes a nibble of scone as he thinks - damn, these are good. Taako misses a lot of things, but he especially misses baking. 

“Damn, these are good,” he tells Paloma through a mouthful of crumbs. She beams.

“The trick is a little bit of jam, mixed with the fruit,” she says in her normal voice. “Would you like the recipe?”

“Er, I’ll pass,” Taako responds. “Maybe later.” Maybe never.

She gives him a knowing look anyway. “Maybe soon,” she says, and Taako jolts.

“Okay, you’re gonna have to be clear on what’s actual prophecy and what’s just like, fake therapy bullshit,” he snaps. 

“Ah, but that’s no fun!” she says, laughing. “Sometimes the two are closer than you might think.” 

“Right, well, if that’s everything, thanks for your time, goodbye, see you-“ Taako rattles off, but is cut off.

“I didn’t say that was all.” Paloma retorts. She snaps her fingers and another crystal, this one the brownish red of the Gulch’s stone, falls to the ground and shatters. This time, Paloma’s voice is layered, like two of her talking slightly out of sync, as she says “One can save one. Two can save two. Three can save all.” 

“Well, that’s not cryptic or anything,” Taako snarks, but he slowly sits back down. “Okay, one, two, three… I’m guessing the three is me and my friends. But who are the other one and two?”

“I just speak the prophecies, I don’t interpret them,” Paloma says. “That part, unfortunately, is up to you. Maybe Istus can clarify it, but I’m just a little old woman, not a goddess.”

Taako’s going to reserve his judgement on that, too. Not a goddess, fine. But Paloma is really not just any old retiree sitting in her house and baking scones. 

“Wait, okay,” Taako says, frowning. “What is Istus the goddess _of?_ You didn’t say, and I’d think that’s kinda relevant here.”

“Ah, you’ll find out!” Paloma chirps, and Taako resists the urge to slam his head against the table. 

“Great, fucking fantastic. Any actual solid shit you can give me to take back, instead of cryptic riddles and handoffs to other people?”

Somehow, Taako still hasn’t pissed her off. With a serene smile, she snatches a tiny speck of purple crystal from the ceiling and throws it at the table. It’s so small that it bounces instead of shattering, so the tiny woman rummages through a drawer and grabs a meat tenderizer. Putting her whole body behind it, she slams the mallet down on the crystal, sending purple dust flying. 

She’s back to her deep voice. “Tell Magnus not to hesitate, to take a leap of faith.”

“Ooookay, he’s good at that, I’ll pass the message along,” Taako says, standing. “Thanks, Paloma. Mostly for the scones, but hopefully we can do something with the prophecies too.” 

Taako walks out to the sound of a little old lady sweeping up shattered crystal bits with a dustpan.

—

Ren doesn’t quite understand what’s going on. She’s starstruck, yes, but she’s not an idiot. Paloma sent her away for a reason, and Taako’s excuses aren’t quite holding water. As she walks to the _Davy Lamp_ and back, hopscotching across walkways and buoys, she and her daemon, Hari, throw ideas back and forth.

“Maybe he’s on the run?”

“But from what?”

“I don’t know, the law? An ex? Could be anythin’.”

“But wouldn’t we have heard if he was? I mean, he’s _Taako._ ”

“That’s fair, yeah. Also, how’s Auntie Paloma involved?”

“Maybe she saw somethin’? She does that.”

“But did you see her face? It must be somethin’ big.”

“Okay, I know Taako’s cool and all, but what does a celebrity chef have to do with the kind of big things Paloma sees?”

“I don’t know. We’re going in circles.”

“No we aren’t! I still have questions!”

“No, I mean literal circles. Look.”

Ren looks away from the small pallid bat dangling from her braid. Yep, they passed Cassidy’s boat a few minutes ago, too. She shakes her head, prompting a squeak from Hari, and starts off in the right direction. Hari takes flight, circling Ren as she talks. 

“I wonder where his daemon is. Maybe they’re shy, but I’d like to meet them.”

“Maybe they’re like us! Maybe they’re hiding like we did!”

Hari shakes her head. “We’re not exactly that common, there’s a reason we left the Underdark.”

Ren _hmm_ in agreement. Ren and Hari are both female, something rare but not unheard of in daemon pairs. On the surface, in towns like Refuge, Hari would get a few extra stares, a few uncomfortable questions, but she and Ren would be largely left alone. That was not the case in the Underdark, though. Ren and Hari had been ostracized, hated, or even feared by the others in their community. They’d had to hide and run for much of their lives, and greatly preferred living on the surface. 

Ren thinks harder. “They could be like Auntie Paloma?”

“That’s even rarer than us, though. _Nobody’s_ like Auntie Paloma.”

With that agreed, they finally reach Paloma’s home. Taako stands perched against the rail, looking forlorn. Ren gives a little wave and decides to check on him, as soon as she can get this lantern to Paloma. She calls out “Auntie, I’m back!” and darts into the cabin. 

As soon as she does, the largest crystal, this one red with flashes of black and silver, falls to the ground and shatters. Paloma turns to Ren, eyes glowing white, and grasps the girl by the shoulders. In a voice that echoes, she says, “I see all of existence all at once. I see a dark storm, a living hunger eating it from within. But there is a brilliant light heralded by fourteen birds, flying tirelessly from the storm. I see fourteen birds: the Twins, the Lovers, the Protectors, the Lonely Journal-keepers, the Peacemakers, and the Wordless Ones.” She shakes a bit as she says the names. “They are destined to bring about the end of destiny. But if they know, if they are told, it will all fail; death will sweep through all the worlds; it will be the triumph of despair, hunger, darkness forever.” Her eyes flicker as she says, more insistently, “Fourteen birds. They must not know!”

“Okay, Auntie,” Ren says soothingly, nervously. Hari chitters. Paloma’s eyes clear and she looks worried.

“I’m sorry, dearie, that was a big one. Here, take a scone with you!” she says, shoving a few in Ren’s direction. Ren takes two, one for Taako. Thinking fast, she asks, “Hey, can I tell Taako about that prophecy?”

Paloma’s eyes flash white again as she echoes, “They must not know!” Hari chirps excitedly.

“Okay, thanks Auntie, good to know!” Ren says cheerfully, hiding a small fist pump as she turns to the door. That’s one thing confirmed! That in mind, she joins Taako at the rail and offers him a scone, which he takes. His eyes are fixed across town, on the clock tower.

Casually as she can, Ren asks, “So, what did you talk about in there?”

Taako sighs. He says, “You know what? Ask me in… two minutes, then I’ll tell you.” He pauses for a long moment. “Hey Ren?”

“Yeah?” she responds, curious. 

He sighs again. “You’re a really good person, and I’m glad I could help you. I’m glad something good came of that show. I don’t deserve your adoration, or even approval, and… Sorry I didn’t fix this yet.”

As she’s about to ask what “this” is, the clock strikes twelve and there’s a deep, bone shaking rumble. Terrified, Ren grabs Taako’s hand, who holds on just as tightly as the world shakes and fractures and burns around them.

And then, there’s blackness. 

— 

Taako is back in that white space. He’s facing that woman again, who looks tired, and almost… sad? The threads around her are multiplying, and they’re becoming colors Taako can’t quite process.

She says, “Almost there, almost there. I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.” Then she fades, and the men and daemons are yet again back in Refuge.

He looks around at the others. Merle looks a bit frazzled, but otherwise fine. Magnus has clearly been crying, which is worrying. From the glances they’re sending his way, he doesn’t look so hot, either. 

The silence is broken by Merle hissing “Shit! Roswell!” The door of the sheriff’s office is just starting to open. Faster than anyone expected, the dwarf pulls his companions into a crevice in the side of the canyon wall. They hear a door swing open, some low clanking sounds that can probably be attributed to Roswell’s armor, and a polite call of “Hello?” They hold their breath, not moving so much as a muscle. Finally, they hear more clanking and the slam of a shutting door, and they slouch against each other, relieved. Roswell is nice enough, but they just don’t have time or energy to talk to them now, after that last cycle. Speaking of which, they better update each other on that, and the three men glance at each other. 

“So, who wants to share with the class first?” Merle asks, falsely cheery.

Magnus snarks back, “How about you, Merle? What did _you_ do on your summer vacation?”

“Well, I learned someone’s been fucking with explosives,” he says, and Taako’s and Cal’s eyes widen. Merle continues, “Cassidy’s in jail because when they tried to blow up the rapids, something went wrong and people got killed, right? But she saw someone futzing with the dynamite after she set it. Someone sabotaged it, and probably someone in town.” 

“Huh,” Magnus says pensively. “Yeah, Roswell says they don’t really get strangers here. She’s sure of this?”

“Yup,” Merle replies, “And I know she’s a bit… strange, but I’m inclined to believe her.”

“I wonder…” Magnus mutters, pensive. His eyes light up. “I have a weird idea. I think someone’s after the alethiometer.”

“Yeah, that’s somewhat buck wild, my man,” Taako says slowly. “Want to elaborate on that?”

Instead, Magnus asks, “Merle, why were they blowing up the rapids?”

The older man says “Uh, broadly because of danger and nuisance, specifically so Jack and June could leave downstream.”

“Okay, yeah that tracks,” Magnus says excitedly. “Roswell said Jack and June are planning on leaving, that’s pretty well known in town. And something they said… They didn’t have a lot of specifics, but I think that Stranger in the statue, whoever they are, gave June the alethiometer. So June’s leaving, and probably taking it with her… Still doesn’t explain everything, but might explain the explosion at least.”

“Okay, that’s one mystery solved,” Merle says after a moment. “Taako, what’ve you got?”

“A lot of fucking cryptic riddles and vague hints, but they’re at least a starting point,” Taako says, sounding mildly annoyed. “Apparently prophecies can’t ever just state anything outright, but I’ve got three, which I’d classify as ‘advice not the future,’ ‘cryptic vague bullshit,’ and ‘fucking obvious.’ First off, we need to find the Temple of Istus.” He pulls the map out of his pocket - wait, shouldn’t that have disappeared with the time loop reset? Whatever, there’s too much metaphysical bullshit going on to deal with the ramifications of that now. “It’s up here, on the cliffs, and apparently there we’ll find ‘what we need.’” He makes air quotes with his hands. “Don’t even ask me what Istus is the goddess of, I have no fucking clue.”

“Okay, that’s a start!” Magnus says encouragingly. “Also that’s surprisingly straightforward.”

“Oh, it gets better, big guy. How about ‘one can save one. Two can save two. Three can save all?’” Taako says sarcastically.

“Yeah… That’s weirder,” Merle admits. “One, two, three… one, three… three, two, one…”

“Alright, Sesame Street, hold your horses,” Taako says in annoyance. “Pretty sure the three is us, and I _swear_ if that little old lady decided to give me a prophecy about the power of teamwork…”

“I mean, it’s something to keep in mind at least,” Magnus says pragmatically. “You said there was one more?”

Taako sighs. “Yep. I’m supposed to tell you not to hesitate, and to take a leap of faith. Not like you’ll have a problem with that…”

“Yeah, I like that one!” Magnus declares. Cal gives him an admonishing nip on the ear and says, “You need to stop jumping into shit, I’m the one here who flies.”

“Yeah, okay, have at least a tiny scrap of self preservation,” Taako says and Magnus’s shoulders stiffen. 

But before he can say anything, Merle says, “Right, well, I am tired of being squished into a rock next to you asses and your asses. Can we get this show on the road?”

And with that, the five beings begin to make their way toward the Temple of Istus, in search of… something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We are all subject to the fates. But we must all act as if we are not, or die of despair." - Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	10. as if it was fixed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako, Magnus, and Merle meet the goddess of fate. Things go... differently, this time around.

It’s a long way to the Temple of Istus. The men and daemons spend most of their precious hour in the hot sun, sweltering as they ascend switchback after switchback. The trail is narrow, barely hacked out of the red stone wall, and though it seems worn with the footsteps of centuries, it’s also overgrown and rough in places. This Istus may have had followers once, but no longer. Taako, in the lead, is the first to traverse this trail in a very long time. 

Solana and Cal, bored, swoop in wide circles as their partners finally scramble to the top of a deep ledge in the cliff. The red stone at their feet is inset with a scattering of tiny white gemstones, which grow more dense as they approach the cliff face - or rather, the structure carved out of it. Tall, swooping columns emerge from the rugged rock, framing a darkened, imposing archway. It utterly dwarfs the Reclaimers who stand in its shadow.

They’ve reached their goal, they’re short on time, and yet they hesitate. “So, we really don’t know what she’s the goddess of, right?” Magnus asks nervously.

“Nope,” Taako responds shortly. 

Merle says, slowly, “Do we, like, knock?”

“Heya, Lady Istus, can we come in?” Taako calls into the darkness. Immediately, there’s a change. The small gemstones under their feet begin to illuminate, shining an almost painfully bright white. The light flows toward the temple in a wave of brilliance, leaving those on the ledge to squint narrowly as the inside of the temple slowly becomes lit in a growing trickle of pure starlight. Taako sighs. 

“I’m going to take that as a ‘come on in,’” he says resignedly. “C’mon, Magnus, do your thing.” 

“Nuh-uh, you’re coming with,” Magnus says stubbornly, and he squats. “Your options are piggyback or fireman carry.”

“You are _insufferable,_ ” Taako hisses, but he hops onto the man’s back with no real protest. Calariel swoops into the temple before them, and Merle, Solana on his shoulder, nervously waddles in behind.

The temple seems nearly organic in form. Pews and podium rise up from the floor, a seamless extention of its stone, and the walls are inset with intricate latticed carvings that let in the light. Everything is the same red hue except for the clear centerpiece of the room. Atop a russet platform stands a statue many meters high. Its robes are carved out of a clean white marble, so deftly carved as to seem to flow like silk. The figure’s bare arms, outstretched hands, and raised face are formed from the largest pieces of tiger’s eye any of its viewers had ever seen, darkest brown shot through with bands of gold. Its serene expression is framed by glowing strands and braids of hair made from iridescent quartz shot through with an indescribable number of colors.

They’d be able to recognize it instantly as a likeness of the woman from the white space even if the same woman wasn’t currently standing before them. 

Well, sitting, really. She’s perched on the edge of a pew, knitting a scarf that seems to stretch out of sight. Compared to her statue, she’s actually quite normal looking. Her braids are pulled back into a thick ponytail, and she’s replaced her robes with a summery white button down and matching pants. She’s barefoot, but confidently stands and strides toward her visitors, beaming. She stretches out her arms in a surreal echo of the statue behind her.

“Taako, Magnus, Calariel, Solana, Merle! Welcome, welcome, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” She gestures at her pew. “Come, take a seat. Let’s talk.”

Nervously, the men and daemons join her, Taako migrating to Magnus’s shoulders. She sits down and is immediately reabsorbed in her knitting. There’s a moment of awkward silence before Merle says, “So… Paloma said you could help us?”

She laughs. “Yes, I do think I can manage that.” She continues knitting.

“Okay…” Taako says slowly. “Well, we’re trying to undo the time loop in this town. For whatever reason, it’s repeating an hour-“ He’s stopped by a wave of Istus’s hand.

“Yes, I know that already,” she says airily. “After all, I’m the one who made it.”

“I need you to explain that, like, right now,” Taako snaps, shocked and angry. The others stare. “Because I have just watched good people die over and over and you better have a fucking good reason for this and a way to fix it.”

“What have you figured out about the alethiometer hidden here in Refuge, and what do you know about me?” Istus asks. “It’s all connected.”

“You want the cliff’s notes?” Merle asks. “Uh, June probably has it, but she’s about to leave and someone’s trying to stop her. Also, we know jack shit about you except you’re a goddess.”

“I am a goddess, yes. My name, my title, is Lady Istus, Goddess of Fate. My domain is destiny, what’s meant to be. That’s pretty important here.” She gestures vaguely. “And as for Jack and June, that’s the gist, but it’s a little more complex and a bit more urgent than that,” Istus replies. She waves a hand, and a pale mist rises up in front of the men. “This is the rest of it.”

A flickering scene is being projected onto the mist. It shows the rapids at the end of town, jagged rocks and white roiling water dropping off into a sloping waterfall that crashes onto yet more jagged stone. Two tall figures stand on a rock in the water, grappling over the edge of the cliff. A third smaller one stands back on the riverbank, arms reaching out desperately, a Gila monster guarding the glimmering alethiometer dropped beside her. There’s no sound, but it’s clear that she’s screaming. It’s also clear that she’s the girl from the statue, June, and one of the men on the cliffs is the man, Jack. The third is an unknown party, but something about him puts Magnus on edge. His daemon is presumably the writhing rattlesnake currently wrapped around Jack’s struggling jackrabbit. As the Reclaimers watch, the struggle grows more violent, until with one massive shove the strange man pushes Jack over the cliff. In an instant, the jackrabbit disappears, dropping the snake on a rock. June screams again and runs into the rushing water, and with one fluid movement the man still standing unholsters a pistol and aims it in her direction. There’s a flash, and then the image is gone. 

“All right… what the fuck?” Merle cries incredulously.

“I hope you recognize Jack and June,” Istus says calmly. “The third man is Sheriff Isaak. The alethiometers have a pull, and he’s been ensnared by it. Jack and June wanted to leave, and take the alethiometer, and Isaak wouldn’t let that happen. So each cycle, he kills Jack and attempts to kill June. I’ve managed to… stall, you might say. The hour loops one second before June’s imminent death. Isaak is defying fate, and for the good of the world that can’t happen. He can’t kill June. I can’t stop him, I can’t save her. But you can. That’s why I’ve brought you here.”

“Okay, there’s a lot to unpack there,” Taako says slowly. “You want to save this girl - not the guys, just the girl - and you’ve somehow decided we’re the ones to do it? Lady, we’re three idiots who bumbled into this shit by mistake. I really don’t think you want us.”

“No, I mean - I do actually need you, specifically. You three are _special_. You may not have known it, but you’ve been working as emissaries of fate for a long, long time. Before you joined the Bureau, even. You’ve been inadvertently keeping the universe in line with its destiny. And there’s countless planar systems out there, countless universes, countless copies of people. But you don’t have any copies out there. You are unique, you can do so much. That’s why I need you, why I’ve kept you safe.”

“We’re unique,” Magnus says flatly, his eyes going to stone. “You want to protect us, because we’re _special_. You’re saving June, and just June, because she’s _needed_. You know what? Fuck you.”

Istus is taken aback. “What? I… I don’t understand.”

“You don’t get to _do_ that!” Magnus spits. “I don’t fucking care if you’re a goddess, you don’t get to look down at everyone and say some deserve to be saved and some don’t!” He’s so furious that Merle leans back. They’ve seen Magnus annoyed, frustrated, irritated, but before today very few people had ever seen him truly _angry_. He takes a deep breath and steels himself. In a voice that shakes, he says, “I need you to tell me the fucking truth. Did you send me out of Raven’s Roost, that day?”

“I mean, it’s… complicated,” Istus says hesitantly, and Magnus stops her with a raised hand.

“No. I don’t want equivocation, half truths. Just yes or no answers. You claim to be the goddess of fate. Did you know what was going to happen that day, could you have stopped it, and did you intentionally send me away?” Anyone who didn’t know Magnus well might say he’s holding together pretty well. Only Taako and Merle can see how close he is to shattering.

Istus takes a breath. “I knew. I couldn’t save everyone, I’m not that powerful. But Magnus… I couldn’t just leave you to die there too, you were… you were _needed_. It wasn’t your time.” 

“So you had the ability to save one person, and you chose me, because it was everyone else’s fate, Steven’s fate -“ His voice cracks- “ _Julia’s_ fate, to die that day? You saved me, out of everyone in that town, because- because I was _important_ , and no one else was?” 

She nods, just barely.

“You should have picked someone else. Anyone else. Fuck fate, I’m done.” 

Magnus stands and drops Taako, who’d remained clinging to his back like an increasingly anxious limpet, though he’d never admit needing a security blanket. Without even a glance back the man walks steadily toward the door. Cal, who’s been unusually quiet, perches on his shoulder, pressed against him as much as she can. Taako, Merle, and Solana awkwardly watch him go, Merle instinctively standing to follow but hanging back. They don’t know Magnus’s story. He’s hinted at times that he’s lost people, that his background isn’t all carving ducks and hitting things with axes. They still don’t know much, but this sheds an uncomfortable light both on Magnus’s need to protect and his tendency to rush in. At first, it seemed like he was a brash young man simply unaware of his own mortality. But it’s becoming painfully clear just how aware Magnus truly is. 

Istus doesn’t watch Magnus walk out, instead staying focused on her knitting. Initially, her endless scarf seemed to have no real pattern to it. But as the human and hawk make their exit, strands of black, darker than anything, streak their way through the weave. By the time Magnus is at the door, the black has seeped up the cloth, darkening areas that were once a mixture of reds - the warm orange-brown of the Woven Gulch, mixed with a bright cherry red that Taako can’t quite put his finger on. The end of the scarf, the new stitches, are blacker than the night.

Istus sighs, putting down her needles. “There’s something coming. It’s… well, it could be the end of everything.”

Magnus pauses on his way out the door. 

“I see fate, and the future. But it’s really futures, plural. I see what could happen and what events lead to that, thousands and thousands of tiny changes spiraling into a universe of potential. But some events are unavoidable, and one of those is coming. It has the potential to destroy _everything_. Not just the world, but the planes, the universe. And in many potential futures, it succeeds.”

There’s a deep silence as Istus looks dejectedly at the knitting on her lap. “I don’t want to do these things, you have to believe me. But I’m not that powerful. Not many people believe in me anymore. I can’t stop these events from happening, so I have to nudge people into creating a timeline that can. Sometimes that means saving one and not another, or hiding away something very dear, or stalling for time until help can get here at the cost of looping deaths.”

She looks at the men and daemons. “You have every right to hate me. I understand it completely. But I still need your help.”

“On one condition.” Taako, who’s been quiet for much of the conversation, steps forward. “When all this is done, when we’ve fulfilled our fate or whatever bullshit, you _leave us the hell alone_. Let us live our lives. Let us _choose_ , damn it, because I’m real fucking tired of being a puppet my entire life.” 

Istus opens her mouth as if to speak and Taako shakes his head. “Nuh-uh, I’m not done. I understand your motives, but that doesn’t change the fact that in shaping your amazing future, you have _ruined our lives_. I can’t exactly turn back time, bring my daemon back, bring Magnus’s home back, so since we’re on this path we may as well not fucking waste those sacrifices. But after this? We’re done. You don’t touch us, or anyone we care about.” He’s surprisingly quiet, despite his intensity. 

Istus sighs. “I’ll- I’ll do my best. And I’m sorry, Taako.”

“That really doesn’t fix anything you’ve done,” the elf says flatly. His heart seems to ache, a hollowness in his chest that’s been all too familiar for years now. The feeling of missing half your soul. He can’t forgive Istus for that.

“We’ll help you.” Magnus says. “But fuck fate, destiny, all that jazz. We’re not doing this because we’re ’supposed’ to or some bullshit. We’re going to do this because it’s the right thing to do, and we’re going to do it our way. Now do you have anything actually helpful?”

“I have some… gifts, I guess. Physical objects, not weird fate stuff, I promise.” From somewhere deep in her tangle of yarn, she pulls out a long iron pole. On closer inspection, it appears to be a lance or spear created from the long minute hand of Refuge’s single clocktower. 

“This is the Chance Lance. It’s, well, a spear. That part’s obvious. But if you throw it, it will always return to your hand. And… everything is subject to fate, to some extent. This lance is… less so.” The goddess hands the spear to Magnus, then reaches back into the yarn. She pulls out a small woven bag.

“Okay, sorry I lied, this is absolutely some fate bullshit. But if it helps, I don’t know what it is.” She hands it to Taako. It’s heavier than it looks. 

“In that bag is something that will help you in your direst need. That point, that future is still shifting. I don’t know when you will need it, or what it will be, but you _will_ need it. It will help.”

She turns to Merle last. “Merle, I don’t… actually have anything for you. Just a message, I guess. Pan’s watching, and he’s proud, and he will help you as much as he can.”

The goddess turns to look at her watch, which didn’t exist a few moments before. “You have a couple minutes left in the hour, I’ve futzed with time again. Good luck, and… well, good luck.” 

The lighted gems in the floor begin to fade as Istus grows brighter. The familiar white light burns and disappears in an instant, leaving three men and two daemons in a deserted temple. With sighs, they gather up their things and walk out to the cliff’s edge. The sun is high in the sky over Refuge, and the Reclaimers stare down into the tiny town that has no idea what they have become ensnared in, this fight so much bigger and yet much smaller than the sleepy nomadic community.

Merle sits down on the cliff’s edge, swinging his legs. Solana takes flight over the canyon, soaring toward the top of the bubble, as the others sit beside him.

“Merle, you were awfully quiet in there. Didn’t want to join the ‘cuss out a goddess’ party?” Taako snarks. Merle sighs.

“Not really. The idea of fate, of godly meddling, that’s not new to me. I’m a damn cleric! My job is handle godly meddling. It’s just… wrong god, I guess. I don’t understand her as well as Pan. She’s a lot more abstract, and quite honestly I don’t want to get into that. Leave me my plants, thanks.” 

His companions nod, appeased. They sit together, leaning against each other, as - hopefully for the last time - the world disintegrates into white around them. This time, they don’t meet Istus in the white space, and they’re glad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "'You speak of destiny,' he said, 'as if it was fixed. And I ain't sure I like that any more than a war I'm enlisted in without knowing about it. Where's my free will, if you please?'" - Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	11. come down tails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaak is confronted. Some questions are answered. And a reunion - of sorts - is had.

Yet again, they stand in front of the tiny nomad town of Refuge. But hopefully, this time will be the last.

Before Roswell can come out of their office, Taako pulls the trio around a corner, into the same crevice they had hidden in before. “Okay, y’all. We have an hour before shit goes to hell, how do we want to do this?” the elf asks.

“I guess… should we tell Roswell? If all goes well, we’ll need someone to arrest Isaak - and on that note, let’s actually try not to kill people this time,” Merle muses. 

“Will that even work? Can a deputy sheriff arrest the real, actual sheriff?” Magnus asks, concerned. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Taako decides. “I don’t know if there’s actually much we can do before they start fighting at the rapids. Fate is bullshit but we’ve never seen Jack, June, or Isaak around town, and no one knows where they are. So we can’t do anything until they get there.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Magnus agrees. “But is there anything else we can do to prepare? Like… I dunno, can we figure out how to evacuate the town?”

Solana says, quietly, “I don’t think so. We have to rebuild our credentials every time this loop resets, and we don’t have time to explain ourselves to everyone. Besides, there’s still Istus’s bubble. We can’t get anyone out.”

“So, are we just gonna sit here and do nothing for an hour?” Calariel asks indignantly.

“Yeah, actually,” Taako responds, subdued. “Isaak is out of control. He’s trying to shoot a fucking kid. I don’t want to drag people into this without warning, and we don’t have time to explain properly. We can sit here and wait and plan. That’s just about all we can do without dragging more people into the crossfire.”

Reluctantly, the others agree. For nearly forty-five minutes, the men and daemons sit quietly in the nook in the canyon wall. But they don’t just twiddle their thumbs. Calariel actually leaves the group to act as lookout, soaring between the canyon walls. Normally, they’d worry about someone spotting a daemon alone, but Harris’s hawks are common enough in the desert that she draws no undue attention. Merle and Solana flip through the Xtreme Teen Bible, hunting for spells scribbled in the margins that may be of some use. Taako rummages through his bag, pulling out anything he might find helpful in the confrontation to come. Soon, he’s sitting in a pile of random objects, both magical and entirely mundane. Magnus, meanwhile, has taken a length of rope and tied it both to the Chance Lance and his own torso. When Taako points put that the spear is supposed to come back on its own, Magnus just smiles and says “You’ll see!”

Eventually, it’s time. Cal swoops back into the crevice, and the five individuals quickly make their way across town. It takes a few minutes due to an effort to be stealthy, but they still manage to get there in what should be plenty of time. The scene is a few moments before what Istus showed them - Jack and Isaak are on the rocks, yelling, but it has’t gotten physical yet. June is still screaming at the water’s edge with her daemon. Just beyond the edge of the falls stands a misty, shimmering wall - the edge of Istus’s bubble. The Reclaimers creep up close, trying to avoid notice, until they’re just a few feet from June. For a second, Taako thinks, _we’ve made it in time. We can save them!_

And then everything goes to shit. 

Isaak sees them coming and panics. In one fluid motion, he shoves Jack as hard as he can. Not expecting this, Jack stumbles backwards and, as if in slow motion, tumbles over the cliff. June screams. Isaak reaches for his pistol. For a moment, Taako and Merle freeze in horror.

Magnus doesn’t. He sprints toward the cliff’s edge, where they last saw Jack. Horrified, Taako screams, “What are you doing?!” As he reaches the edge, the human turns back and smiles. Confidently, he yells, “LEAP OF FAITH!” as he throws the Chance Lance straight at Taako, rope unspooling behind it, and dives backwards over the cliff.

There’s no time to question it. Using Mage Hand, Taako snatches the lance out of the air and spikes it into the ground beside June. Then he’s sprinting through the water toward Isaak, who’s raised his gun. 

Around him, many things happen at once, of which he’s only peripherally aware. He watches as Isaak’s rattlesnake daemon strikes out toward the jackrabbit, but before it can hit, the snake is swept up by Cal’s sharp talons and hoisted into the air. He hears Merle pulling June back from the bank, and a flash of light draws his attention behind him. He glances back to see that the cleric has cast Guardian of Faith and Solana’s immense spectral wings now shield the girl, her daemon, and Merle. But that distracts him from the danger at hand.

Isaak was already unstable, overcome by his desire for the alethiometer. He was going to shoot June. However, she’s now shielded from him, out of his reach. So with a grimace, he changes his plan and fires directly at Taako. 

Taako casts Blink. The world goes grey around him and the bullet passes harmlessly through his torso, sparking off of Solana’s wings behind him. He continues to barrel toward the sheriff, unseen. Isaak reels backward, unsure what’s just happened, how his foe has just disappeared from existence. By the time he’s steadied himself, Taako’s upon him.

The elf, though not usually a physical force, tackles the sheriff to the ground. Both fall into the water, thankfully into a shallow stretch away from the abrupt cliffs. There’s a brief struggle, but after a few well placed elbows Taako manages to wrench Isaak’s gun away from him and throw it to Merle, still on the banks. Once disarmed Isaak gives up and falls limp. Taako stands up and pulls him to his feet, then pulls out his plastic sheriff’s badge.

“Sheriff Isaak, you’re so under fucking arrest.” He says angrily. “Now how about you go over here to your wonderful successor and let us finish fixing your goddamn murder attempt.”

A crowd has gathered on the river banks, drawn by the screams and gunshots. Merle, Solana, and June and her daemon stand surrounded by almost all of Refuge’s inhabitants. Some are frightened, others cheer. Most are some level of baffled. Deputy Sheriff Roswell, who Taako is now approaching, looks shocked.

“Hey there, Roswell! Let’s skip the ‘who are you’ type questions for now, but this man just tried to shoot a child. I think this falls under your jurisdiction, thanks!” Taako shoves former sheriff Isaak at the golem, who pulls themself together enough to cuff the man’s hands behind his back and pluck the badge of authority from his chest. Then Taako turns back to the waterfall, where a taut rope stretches over the side. Concentrating, the elf casts Levitate.

Like the strangest party balloon ever created, Magnus slowly floats into view on the other end of the rope. His body is wrapped around the form of Jack, who he had successfully caught with his wild swan dive over the cliff. Both are a bit bashed up from hitting the side of the waterfall, but nothing that can’t be healed in moments. Carefully, Taako lowers them to the ground next to Jack’s jackrabbit daemon, who leaps into his arms as soon as she can. Cal, who’d been out of sight for a moment, swoops down onto Magnus’s shoulder. On her way she drops Isaak’s rattlesnake, now tied in a bow, beside Roswell. 

June, Gila monster daemon on her shoulder, runs up to Jack, hugging him as well as she can. Merle, blocked from view by Solana’s immense form, stealthily picks up her abandoned alethiometer. Magnus unties himself and walks over to Taako and Merle, shaking his soaking wet hair like a dog. 

“Well, that was fun,” he remarks airily. “Next time though, maybe come get me faster? I think the rope cracked a rib.”

Solana returns to her normal form and snaps, “Next time, maybe don’t _jump off a goddamn cliff.”_

“Eh, it was fine,” Magnus waves a hand. “I knew it would work out.”

“Wait, you believed Paloma’s prophecy and that fate bullshit? Since when?” Taako asks, confused.

“Nah,” Magnus responds, looking at him. “I just knew you’d catch me.”

Taako doesn’t have a quick, snarky answer to that. He’s saved by the approach of Jack, June still clinging to his legs. 

The older man says, “I can’t even begin to thank you for this. I… I mean, we have some questions, but mostly we just want to express our utmost gratitude, to all of you.”

“Appreciated, my man, but hold up one minute,” Taako says. “There’s one more thing we need to do.”

With a mighty yank, he pulls the Chance Lance out of the earth beside him and then proceeds to untie its tether. With a smile, he hands it to Magnus. “You want to do the honors?”

Magnus flashes a sharp grin. “Absolutely.” He takes the lance, aims, and throws it as hard as he can into the shimmering mists of Istus’s bubble. 

There’s the sound of shattering glass as the metal touches mist. A flash of blinding white light emits from the impact point, and when the Reclaimers can see again, the world begins to blur with speed. Around them, inhabitants of Refuge rush past, moving thousands of times faster than normal. The sun rises and sets so fast that there’s a flickering effect over the scene. The men and daemons stare, transfixed.

“What’s going on?” Magnus asks quietly.

Merle smiles. “They were trapped in an hour for what, at least a few years, right? I think this is them catching up.”

They stand there for a few minutes as Refuge springs into life around them. The bustle of the town moves at a breakneck pace, walking around and building boats and doing everything that happens in a lively river village. Seven years passes, and they see weddings, and funerals, and festivals and dances and everything in between. They get plenty of visitors, too. A sign is erected immediately in front of them which initially reads just “Thanks!” But in the years or minutes that pass, Refuge’s people add their own messages, their own decorations and thanks and homages. A group of children sculpt the Reclaimers and their daemons out of clay, mirroring any move they make. And all this time, the veil over the town grows thinner and thinner. 

When the barrier is so thin that it can barely be seen, the inhabitants of Refuge gather around their newfound friends. Time gradually slows to almost normal, until finally, after nearly seven years, the bubble pops with a blinding flash. And the Reclaimers are enveloped by cheering individuals.

It’s a lot for the five to handle. They were sent here to find a magical item, not save an entire city from an endless hour. This was a byproduct, an accident. The celebration is undeserved. However, they can’t quite convince everyone else of this. They’re too happy, too thrilled to finally be at the day when they return to the world.

After some intense partying, the sky begins to darken and the revelers begin to disperse. Taako, Magnus, and Merle use this as an opportunity to check in one on one with a few people.

Roswell is doing quite well. They’ve been promoted to sheriff, and the town has flourished under their eye. Cassidy works with Jack, now, as head civil engineer of the town. She finally gets to put her explosives knowledge to good use, and over seven years she’s carved out a wide channel that makes the rapids passable. Jack’s doing well, but looking to train a successor. He has a few people in mind. Ren, now nearly thirty, has grown much more confident with herself. She and Hari still run the _Davy Lamp,_ and they’re both quite successful businesswomen. She laughs at Taako when he comes to say hi - it’s hard to keep someone on a pedestal after you watched them sneeze for a year and a half. June, now a teenager, has a job in the tavern as a waitress and part time card sharp. She may look unassuming, but anyone who underestimates her is soon reminded of why she has a venomous Gila monster for a daemon. Overall, the town is thriving.

After all their various visits, they make their way to Paloma’s home. She’s expecting them and has a hot tray of scones out on the deck before her. Merle is easily distracted by free food, but Taako and Magnus are not so easily waylaid. 

“Hey, Paloma, great to see you again,” Taako says abruptly. “So, did you predict all of that? Cuz Istus never said we could save Jack, but you did.”

“Yeah, like, did we change fate, or did Istus just lie?” Magnus snaps.

“Oh, sit down, have scone before we get all existential here,” the old woman demands. She takes a seat on the edge of the boat, and the others join her.

After a long moment, she speaks. “Istus sees many fates, likely fates, and acts accordingly. We can nudge people one way or the other. I see many things, many potentials, I don’t know everything. Neither does she. I don’t have a good answer for you, boys. You did what needed to be done, and I thank you for it.” 

“Great, that really clears it up,” Magnus gripes. Taako’s still thinking.

“Right, so you’re not going to give us a straight answer on the fate thing,” he says slowly. “But I have a question. You never asked about my daemon, and I never saw yours. Are you… like me?” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking, really. Is anyone like him? What _is_ he?

But Paloma smiles. “Yes, in a sense.” There’s a moment of silence, then a dragonfly comes darting along the river bank to rest on Paloma’s wire rim glasses. From far, far further than most daemons can go. “I am like you. But I’m also like him, and him too,” she says, gesturing at Magnus and Merle. “We’re all the same. Not severed, no, no. But… unlimited.”

Magnus and Taako are shocked. “There’s… you’re like us?” Magnus asks, amazed. “How did it happen? Were you born like this?”

“No, not born! It’s usually an accident, or a choice,” Paloma says cheerily. “It happens when the daemon is on one plane and the person is on another. Not a cut, not severing, but an untethering.”

“What the fuck, I have so many more questions,” Taako says. “Planes? Like traveling between worlds? You’ve done that? _We’ve_ done that?!”

“Yep!” Paloma seems almost smug. “It’s difficult and rare, but can be done. Some call us witches for it, but I think that’s just rude.”

“Uh, I don’t know but I’d think we’d remember going to a different _plane of existence,_ Paloma,” Magnus says, sounding baffled and annoyed. 

“Oh, there is quite a lot you don’t remember, Magnus Burnsides,” Paloma says eerily. She reaches down next to her and pulls up a scroll of paper, which she hands to Magnus. “Take this, it might help.”

He hesitantly takes the scroll. “Thanks, ma’am. Uh… Should I look at this now?” 

“Whenever it feels right!” She chirps. 

“Okay. Well, thank you, I think.”

“Yeah, thanks Paloma. Keep an eye on Ren for me, will you?” Taako asks. She smiles. 

The Reclaimers are sent off with a bag of scones and no further explanation. They’d asked when Paloma had been on a different plane, and how, but she just smiled and refused to elaborate. She does ask Merle to see the alethiometer, before they sneak off with it. He’s a bit abashed, but Paloma insists not to worry - in the past seven years the whole city has discussed it and they’re fine with him taking it. She asks it two questions. She doesn’t say what they are, or what is answered, but she seems content, if somewhat startled. And so with that settled, the men and daemons take their leave. 

The streets are empty, all revelers long since gone to bed. And yet it’s not creepy, like being alone at night can be. Instead, the warm canyon walls feel protective, like a home. Magnus especially regrets leaving. He doesn’t want to be homesick for two towns now. But night falls, deep blue sky turning inky black, and the moons high above remind them that they must be moving on. So they pass boats small and large, candles brightly burning in the windows, and whisper goodbyes to the people they finally managed to save. 

As they walk out of town, they hear a small, echoing cough behind them, as if clearing a throat in a well. It turns out they have one more visit left today. 

Behind them is the Red Robe, smoky darkness draped in red. Taako, Solana, and Merle stumble backwards, but Magnus and Calariel stand strong. It looks at them, almost quizzically. 

**"YOU’RE NOT AFRAID,”** it says. **“GOOD.”**

“Not afraid, no,” Magnus replies. “But we want answers.” Silently, he holds out the scroll.

He’d looked at it a few moments before. At first glance, it’s a sketch of the statues in front of the town - Jack, June, their daemons, and the robed Stranger. But something’s different, and Magnus can’t quite process it. This Stranger is not the faceless, shrouded figure on the final statue, but a smiling man with his hood down. And that smiling man is clearly a younger, happier Magnus Burnsides.

It’s like his brain is skipping, catching like a bad gear. That’s his face. Cal isn’t there. The Stranger is a Red Robe. The Stranger is severed, or _something_. So Magnus is- the Stranger is- he’s-

He shakes his head as the Red Robe takes the scroll and opens it. It freezes and Magnus says slowly, calmly, “I don’t know what that means. I physically can’t comprehend it. I want to know, and I think you can tell me. So no, I’m not afraid. I want answers.”

The Red Robe doesn’t have a face, but somehow Magnus can tell that it’s smiling. **”I THINK WE CAN HELP YOU WITH THAT.”**

The figure stands there for a second, then lifts one ethereal hand and whistles. Far in the distance is an answering chirp. A light, white and blue and gold and streaking like a meteorite comes flying across the red stone canyon. It comes to a stop on the Red Robe’s black hand, and solidifies into a shape. Specifically, the shape of a smallish bird, not unlike a dove in form. The Red Robe lowers its hand in front of itself, where the bird preens for a second, then turns to the stupefied audience. She says, “Hi, Solana, Calariel. It’s great to see you again. Let’s get moving so we can do this properly.”

And the Red Robe’s daemon - for despite the fact that it’s a lich, she’s so clearly, obviously a daemon - darts back down the canyon, leaving glimmer of light and a stunned silence behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Take the example of tossing a coin: it can come down heads or tails, and we don't know before it lands which way it's going to fall. If it comes down heads, that means that the possibility of its coming down tails has collapsed. Until that moment the two possibilities were equal. But on another world, it does come down tails. And when that happens, the two worlds split apart.” - Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	12. tell them the truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two long-separated paths converge.

They hike for a few days, one blurring into the next. The Reclaimers ask questions, and Taako makes snide remarks, but the Red Robe doesn’t speak, except to murmur to a small coin-shaped object they cup in their hand. They seem nervous, more closed off than before. After a while, the men and daemons stop trying, and hike in near silence. 

They mutter to each other - _are you okay with this? are we doing the right thing?_ Because while they may not know what’s going on, they know that they’re going against the Bureau, against the Director. They’re working with someone who’s supposedly their sworn enemy. But as good as the Bureau has been so far, it has one failing. The Director knows more about them than she’s telling, and this Red Robe is willing to explain. Magnus is dead set on getting some answers, and Taako and Merle are with him. However this turns out, they’ll have learned something important.

Magnus is hit by strong flashes of deja vu as they walk through the desert, though he can’t say why. After all, his trip to Refuge was his first ever time in the Woven Gulch. It fades as they walk, rock turning to scrubland turning to forest, until it’s actually not deja vu anymore. It’s memory.

Three days after their journey began, they stand in the center of a blackened wasteland barely lit by the rising dawn. Grass has started to encroach on the borders, but little exists on the barren black glass that once was Phandalin. There’s no sign of the tavern, the town, the people who had made their homes here. Just heat reflecting off obsidian and a tiny hole where the well once stood.

The lich and their daemon hurry through the area, but Taako stops a moment at the well. This is where it all began. This is where it all ended. He’s not sure which is a better way of looking at it, honestly. Either way, this was a turning point, and he has an inkling that they’re rapidly approaching another one just as impactful. 

Magnus and Merle, daemons high above, join him for a moment, contemplating. Then Magnus throws an arm over his shoulder, and Merle hooks one through his elbow, and they continue on their way.

It’s a short walk, from there. The sun’s not quite high in the sky when they arrive at a cave tucked into the hills that surround the former town. It’s hard to see, so covered in brush and scraggly trees that you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. But the Red Robe makes a beeline, artfully dodging snags and brambles as if they’ve done this innumerable times before. The Reclaimers follow less artfully, catching on twigs and stumbling on loose rocks. But eventually, they’re all standing in the mouth of what should be a dark, damp cave. 

It’s not. It’s clearly lived in, with a neat swept dirt floor, furniture, all the accoutrements of life. Candles around the space illuminate its odder features as well. A large map, utterly riddled with pins and string, seems to have been used to track the alethiometers for quite a while. Further scattered notes litter the desk at its base, some worn and yellowed with age, emphasize the time spent on this mission. And between them, stuck open by candles, is a scroll. It’s heavily annotated with comments and routes traced, and it clearly depicts the Bureau of Balance’s moon base. 

The other source of light in the chamber, besides the candles, is an immense, cylindrical tank. Though it appears to be made of clear glass, the liquid inside glows in a green hue never before seen to nature, the archetypical color of _magic._ Inside, obscured by the semi-opaque liquid, there seems to be a body. Humanoid, and nude, but no more discernible than that. 

There’s one more item of note in the room. There’s a trunk next to the desk, and thrown over it is a robe, vibrant as blood. It matches the lich’s form almost exactly, though where they are energy, this is plain cotton and wool. There’s a patch on the breast pocket, with twelve interlocking circles of various colors. In the center are… letters, maybe. Merle, closest to the chest, tries to make them out but they shift and warp and he can never quite hold their image in his mind. Even Solana, with her keen eyes, can’t make them out. 

Their inspection is interrupted by the Red Robe. They turn to the group and say, **”Events that have been in motion for over a decade are about to reach a critical mass. There are gaps in your stories, unimaginably massive gaps. But before the end of this day, I promise you they will be filled.”**

They drift to the tank, and continue. **”This… well, this is my body. I’ve had to regrow it multiple time over the course of… all this. It’s necessary, but it’s so limiting. Because when I’m in there, when I’m back, I’m not going to remember any of this. It’ll be static to me like it once was to you. I’m going to leave myself some instructions-“** and they hold up the coin **“- but well, I’m stubborn. You might need to convince me, and I’m not going to have magic because well, I won’t even remember that I’m a lich.”**

Their voice has changed, over the past few days. It’s still deep and echoing and ethereal, but there’s something different. It’s more human, has more feeling in it. Less dramatic, and more real.

Seemingly ignorant of their tonal shift, the Red Robe continues, spectral bird perched on his shoulder. **“We’re gonna go in here now, and when we come out, well… You’ll recognize me, and I won’t know you, so that’ll be kinda awkward and uncomfortable. But I’ve been planning this for quite some time. If we follow my commands, we’ll be successful. And today, we’re going back to the Bureau of Balance and we’re going to get the answers we deserve.”**

And then, sounding more human than ever, the Red Robe asks, “Hey Merle? Would you be a bud? I’m uh, I’m gonna be naked as a jaybird when I come outta here. Can you fetch me a change of clothes from that chest?”

“Be glad to, buddy!” the dwarf chirps, and the Red Robe almost smiles, somehow, as they lower into the tank and their daemon dives in after.

Taako and Magnus, now without supervision, begin to poke around the room in earnest. They’re interrupted by Merle, who has started cackling uncontrollably. His friends look over, concerned, to see the dwarf curled over in laughter, clutching the items he’s pulled out to his chest. A white cotton shirt, a studded leather belt, and a pair of pants. 

Sturdy. Denim. And _blue._

— 

There is a wheat field just outside Phandalin. It’s peaceful, with stalks of wheat blowing gently in the wind, a small halfling family working in the distance.

Barry Bluejeans falls from the sky and is dead before he hits the ground.

From the wheat, two figures rise. One is cloaked in red, a black energy emerging like smoke where there should be flesh and blood. The other is a bird, seemingly made of starlight. They share a look, a fear, a frustration, and then they get moving.

Barry sticks to the shadows, to unsavory meet ups and caves carved from mountains. It’s at an auction of less than legal items, where he had hoped to find a relic, where he makes one of his biggest breakthroughs: a pod that can regenerate a physical form. He can grow a new body now, as many times as he needs. And so he does, and he begins the hardest part of his mission.

He’s in a cave, and he doesn’t quite know why. But he trusts himself and the instructions he gave, so he and Gwynn scour the area around Phandalin, an indescribable ache in their chests. There are many things, many _people_ they can’t remember right now. Most importantly, Barry has no idea that he’s a lich.

Until a few months later. He falls from a cliff and dies upon impact. And he rises again, with an anguished scream. He’s joined by the cries of a luminous bird who materializes by his side, having just vanished from her perch over a campsite a few miles away. He’d gotten so far, he was so close, and now he has to wait and grow back his form. Because if he’s a lich, _she_ can find him. So he waits, and he plans, and his map in the cave grows ever more complex.

Barry’s trapped, forced to hide, to wait. But Gwynn isn’t. She’s not a lich, she’s something no one of this plane has ever seen before. She is much more difficult to find. So she watches.

She watches Taako, a star on the road with his own show. Magnus, happy and married in Raven’s Roost with a bright future. Merle, settling down with a family.

Taako, outcast and so, so alone. Magnus, devastated and defeated. Merle, wandering with no aim in life. 

She wants to help. But she can’t. It would ruin the plan, she has to remind herself to think long term. It’s not time yet, it won’t be for a very long time. But she can’t leave them. 

So she watches. 

When they all meet in Phandalin, she’s there. But so is Barry. Of course, neither realizes exactly who they’ve just met. They have some hints, some inklings from the coin their past selves have prepared. But how can a few words, a terse set of instructions, truly sum up a hundred years of love and friendship and fellowship? But they get along, they have some fun kicking ass, it’s all good for a time.

Until, yet again, they die - in a way that’s much, much worse than normal. They were so close. The alethiometer - it’s _hers_. They must have been so, so close. And they fail, and are reminded of just how much has changed. 

Barry is devastated. He knew they wouldn’t remember him, just as he didn’t remember them. But it’s different to see it. He’s a wreck, and throws himself into his work.

Gwynn tries to comfort him. She’s watched them, over this long, long decade. She’s seen their growth, their change, their pain. She understands. For her, it’s been a long, gradual hurt. For Barry, it’s like being thrown into freezing water, nerves burning and breath knocked out. 

And that’s where the divide begins.

Gwynn continues her former role, even more vital now. Barry can’t get past the anti-lich wards on Lu- _the Director’s_ base, so she takes up spying on her loved ones yet again.

(She calls her Madam Director. He still calls her Lucretia. Just another split, another visible wedge.)

She watches her family. She finds them on the false moon, settled into some semblance of a life. When she finds Davenport and Zefira, she _screams,_ and it’s a sound never before heard in this world. The sky shakes, begging to never hear it again. 

It will, eventually. But that’s later.

She watches the Director and Arun. She’s so different - older, more confident, a leader, imposing. But Gwynn’s comforted whenever she sees Arun, for he, the embodiment of her soul, has barely changed. She holds on tight to that scrap of hope, the chance that maybe her Lucretia is still there, that Madam Director is merely a façade. A very good one, but a front nonetheless. 

And the rest of their family… Well, three are gone, hidden, erased, but _not dead._ She and Barry scour the land, follow every lead they can, because they _know_ they’re out there. They have to be. And yet they return with nothing but deaths and pain and black, black glass. 

So Gwynn stays with the others. Merle and Solana seem to do well, finally. They have a purpose, a cause, a reason to stop their wandering. She doesn’t know how long it will last, but for now, they’re happy. She leaves them be.

Magnus and Calariel worry her. On the surface, they seem the same as they always are - jovial, loyal to a fault, protective as ever. But Gwynn sees the cracks under the surface - how the smiles fade at times, as masks often do; the desire to protect rooted in the terror of losing those they love, or truly anyone they meet; the rushing in enabled by a deep-set indifference of their own life. They’re surviving, but it’s been close at times. And Gwynn is truly frightened for them. 

But it’s nothing compared to Taako and… Just Taako. And that’s the hardest part of it all. Because while he doesn’t know it now, Taako has certain tells. When he’s nervous, his eyes flick to his shoulder. When he laughs, his hand raises just slightly, reaching for something. Dozens of little, tiny motions that are impossible to notice - for anyone who hadn’t spent a hundred years watching them form. Gwynn knows. She knows who he’s looking for, who he’s reaching for. She doesn’t know where they are, but Taako doesn’t even know they _exist_. And she can’t even _fucking_ tell him. 

So Gwynn watches, and learns, and loves and aches and tracks the changes that have occurred. She watches how her friends have become strangers to each other, how their personalities have changed. She pulls those new versions into her heart, so better to make peace when she properly meets them. 

But Barry puts up his walls. He has a hard, but necessary challenge - to hold those memories close, to remember what his friends were like Before, and yet advise them knowing that they see him as a threat. He takes up the “spooky lich” mantle, a character to play in these altercations. He can be the Red Robe, can speak in riddles and ominous warnings, hide behind half-truths. For a wall has many purposes: it can hide, it can conceal, but it can also support. And right now, he needs something sturdy to cling to, because every meeting with his friends brings him closer to breaking down. 

Gwynn adapts. Barry remembers. Both love, and hurt, and _wait._ They count the days until they can truly see their family again, without lies and static and shadows.

And then a little river town hands Magnus the last nudge he needs, and the day is finally here.

And Barry and Gwynn are back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It was difficult to tell them the truth when a lie would have been so much easier for them to understand." - Philip Pullman, _The Subtle Knife_


	13. shut it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to learn. It's time to _remember._

Barry Bluejeans emerges from the tank, completely nude. Following him is a small bird who perches on his shoulder and ruffles her light brown - and solid, real - feathers. Her piecing violet eyes dart around the room, surveying, while Barry looks solely at the other occupants of the cave. 

“Hey, uh… I don’t remember what I did last night, but I must have partied pretty hard to end up like, like this. Who are you guys and, um, also, can I have those pants that you’re holding there, dwarf guy?” His voice is gruff, warm, and such a far cry from the Red Robe’s initial way of speaking. 

Merle hands them over, shielding his eyes from the very, very naked man. As he dresses, Barry asks, “Okay, so I don’t mean to be rude here, but uh, names? Who the fuck are you?”

“Uh, my name is Taako, the little fella is Merle, with Solana there, and the brawny ones are Magnus and Cal.” Taako says, stumbling over how to handle this turn of events.

“Do we _know_ you? Where even are we?” Barry’s daemon snaps, eyes now locked on Taako.

“Well, er, several months, a year, a good while ago… We worked together? We met on Craigslist? It didn’t, uh, it didn’t end so well for you two.” Magnus explains awkwardly.

Calariel chimes in. “You should have a coin in your pocket, which should like, talk to you? Or something?”

Bemused, Barry reaches into his pocket and pulls out the coin. As if cued by the action, it begins to speak. “Your names are Barry Bluejeans and Gwynn. You are afraid of the dark. Your very favorite thing in the world is swimming in very cold water on a very hot day. Your father Gregor died when you were too young to know him. Your mother, Marlena, had soft gray hair when you were born, and was the most wonderful woman who ever lived, with an equally wonderful wolf daemon.”

The recording what is clearly Barry’s voice is replaced by Gwynn’s, to her obvious shock.

“You remember them, but you have forgotten so much. And right now, in this moment, you both feel a dull weight in your chests. It’s the weight of two loves that defined and redeemed you but you’ve forgotten who that weight belongs to. Gwynn, Barry, we’re you, just moments ago. And we remember who that weight belongs to, and we can help you remember it too.”

They stand for a moment, baffled, as the coin shifts back to Barry’s voice and addresses the others.

“Boys, these are our true forms and now that you know that, your brains are gonna try to start to remember other things about us and as much as you can you need to resist that urge, because for nearly a year now we’ve had to play parts that we’re uncomfortable with in order for you to not remember, in order to avoid raising someone’s suspicion. But believe me when I say we’ve been watching out for you the whole time.”

In unison, Cal and Magnus say, “Well, fuck.”

Barry - the living, flesh Barry - sighs. His recorded voice continues.

“There’s an annex, a side room off L- the Director’s office. The door is behind her desk, behind that painting. You need to get to that room, it’s where you’ll find answers. You’ll have to get past her somehow. But you can’t let the Director stop you, and you can’t let her see me and Gwynn. This is your only chance, our last chance. We have to get this right.” 

There’s a moment of silence broken by Merle’s slightly hysterical muttering. “Oh yeah, just sneak past a weirdly powerful woman to get to some secret goal that we don’t even know, this is great! Oh boy.”

“I think I know the goal. I know what’s in that room,” Magnus says in a low voice. The others turn to him quizzically, and he continues. “I can’t process the drawing of me. We’ve apparently forgotten things about Barry. And then weeks ago, at Lucas’s memorial, the Voidfish and the music? Egg babe?”

“You think there’s another Voidfish,” Taako says slowly. “We’ve been double Voidfished.”

He looks to Merle, who shrugs. “Yeah, that tracks.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. We’re betraying our employer, sneaking into what I think technically counts as a paramilitary base, and heisting out a baby magic memory jellyfish,” Taako muses, then locks eyes with Magnus. “This is buck wild and we’re all gonna get arrested. Let’s do this.”

Relieved, Magnus smiles, then looks contemplative. “Great, awesome, we’re all crazy. How the _fuck_ are we gonna do this?”

Merle states with a wry smile, “I don’t think this will be that hard, honestly. I mean, we got the alethiometer! We call a bubble, hand it over, poof, we’re in and it’s actually totally legit.”

“Huh, fair point,” Magnus says, startled. “Well that’s easy. Now all we gotta do is sneak in Barry and Gwynn. Somehow.”

Taako speaks up. “I can carry them.”

His friends look on quizzically. “Uh, that might be a bit more conspicuous than even just walking in on his own,” Merle states.

“No, genius,” Taako deadpans. “I have the pocket spa. They’d fit.” 

“Oh, huh. Yeah, that works. Ok. Hey Barold, climb on in I guess,” Magnus says as Taako holds out the bag. 

When the man looks (understandingly) apprehensive, Merle wheedles, “C’mon, there’s cucumber sandwiches…”

“Okay, I was not in until you said you had cukes. Hell yeah, let me at ‘em,” Barry says, and even his daemon looks interested. He climbs into the pocket spa, which Taako tucks away.

The three remaining men step out of the cave. Merle uses his bracer to call down a transport orb, and Magnus stares up at the sky. There’s something… not quite right about it, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. Just as he’s about to nudge Taako to ask, the familiar glass sphere rockets to the ground and comes to an abrupt stop before the five of them. Silently, the enter and begin their trip back to the false moon.

The next few minutes pass in a haze of anxiety and determination. They land, they greet Avi, they pretend nothing is wrong and it was just another mission. To an outsider, it’s perfectly believable. Only they can catch each other’s tells - Solana’s claws gripped too tight on Merle’s shoulder, Magnus’s shield slightly raised, Taako’s smile too bright. But no one else knows them well enough, and no one knows to be suspicious. They breeze through the Bureau until they’re standing yet again in its great hall. 

Lucretia stands before them, Davenport and Zefira at her side. Her daemon, Arun, is nowhere to be seen. 

“Welcome back!” she calls. “Everything go okay?”

“Yup, super straightforward. Well, mostly. There’s another thing, but we did get the alethiometer.” Magnus states. 

“Oh, good. What’s the other thing?” She asks with a frown as Merle hands her the alethiometer. “A problem?”

“Madam Director, ma’am, it’s pretty hush-hush. Can we talk, privately? We can head to your office and you can meet us there after this, if that works for you?” Merle beseeches. 

“Um, sure, that works,” the Director replies, distracted. “It’ll be a few minutes here. Got to run some tests, compare some things, the usual…” She begins rummaging in a previously locked chest behind the dais and pulls out a number of silvery instruments and a bundle of red fabric. “Yeah, I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

“Alright, thanks, see ya then!” Taako calls, and the men and daemons try to look as casual as possible as they walk into her office.

And the latch clicks shut, and it’s go time. 

“Okay, we don’t have much time, get to the painting, quick!” Taako hisses. 

Behind the Director’s desk hangs an immense portrait. Oddly, most of the canvas is bare, but in its center stands the figure of the Director, in formal blue robes. She looks strong, and proud, but strangely sad. Magnus brushes aside the feelings that well up and reaches around the back of the frame, where his fingers find a catch. Silently, the painting swings open to reveal a room behind. 

“Point of no return, guys,” Calariel says from Magnus’s shoulder. “If you need to back out…”

“I mean, we’re gonna be on a job hunt after this, but I also don’t think we were ever legally hired so like, that’s moot,” Merle says. Solana smiles, as much as a creature with a beak can. 

“Yeah, I really think we committed to this a while ago. Why stop here?”

Taako is less jovial. “Come on, let’s go, we’re on a time crunch here,” he says tersely. He pushes past Magnus into the room beyond. His friends follow. 

They glance around the room. It’s remarkably similar to Barry’s cave, though a bit more polished. A near-identical map, again tracking the relics, hangs above a desk scattered with papers. A holy symbol sits atop them, seemingly just a paperweight except for the energies Merle and Solana can feel it emitting. And in a strange echo, this room contains a large, cylindrical tank as well. But there’s no body inside - instead, it’s full of that slippery, painful static, and the Reclaimers can barely stand to look at it.

Oh, and there’s one more thing. High on the wall is an alarm bell. It’s been triggered by their entrance to the room, as they just barged in without checking for traps or wards. In moments, it should draw hordes of Regulators and the Director herself. Except for the fact that it’s encased in a bubble of silence, only a faint ticking noise emitting from the spell. 

The Reclaimers slowly turn around. Standing in the doorway, wand outstretched and stern faced, stands none other than Angus McDonald and his crow daemon. 

“Hello, sirs,” he says in a calm, serious voice. “Start talking - I need to know what you know.”

Merle tries to bluff. “Oh, hey, well, the Director asked us to meet her back here-“

“I’m sorry, but that’s horseshit. I heard you, I was under the desk. I need the truth, now.” And with that, Angus casts Zone of Truth.

Merle and Magnus try to fight it. Taako doesn’t. He’s still staring at Angus, whose wand is pointed straight at Merle’s heart. Taako knows that wand - of course he does. After all, he gave it to the kid, just months ago. He lets the Zone wash over him, not even caring that he can’t hide behind deception anymore.

“Good spellwork, kiddo,” he chokes out. “Yeah, we’ve got a lot to talk about. First off, Barold, wanna come out?”

Apparently not having resisted the spell either, Barry Bluejeans calls out, “I’d really rather not, shit sounds like it’s getting serious up there, but fuck it, ok.” He clambers out of the pocket spa, Gwynn on his shoulder. Angus stares.

Taako sighs. “Okay, then. What do you want to know?”

“Uh, how about _everything?_ Why are you in here? Who’s that?” the boy snaps.

“Angus, I trust you implicitly and here’s the exact 100% truth as we understand it because if anybody can fuckin’ figure out what’s going on, it’s you. So hook me up.” And so Taako explains. He tells the boy about Phandalin, about finding Barry and then the alethiometer. He explains Refuge, and prophecies and statues and mysteries that the Director knows the answer to. He tells him everything he knows. 

Angus smiles a little. “Thank you, Taako. Thanks for trusting me. I love the Director, but yeah, she’s been up to something… weird. Nobody I’ve spoken to could give me a solid answer of why she needs the alethiometers, and there’s just too much that’s not adding up. She says she can’t read them, but she knows more about them than she’s shared. I want to know what exactly I’ve been helping with, and you four have just convinced me more.”

“Are you sure about this?” Taako asks, concerned. “We’re- we’re breaking all the rules here. Shit’s gonna pop off soon, and you’re going to get caught in the middle of it. There’s still time to back out.”

Angus’s smile broadens. “Sometimes, to do the right thing, you have to break some rules.”

Cal murmurs, for Magnus only, “Gods, I love Angus.”

The now seven renegades turn back to the tank of static. “Well, this is gonna be gross,” Taako says, and he dips a flask into the top of the tank. “Hopefully we’re right, otherwise I don’t even want to know what I’m about to drink.” 

He takes a sip and grimaces, passing the flask to Merle, who passes it to Angus, who passes it to Magnus. Barry gets his own flask and fills it as well, taking a small sip. 

And as soon as they do, the static clears. In the tank is a tiny Voidfish, sparkling almost as much as its parent. Angus starts cooing, and Barry doubles over as if punched. 

The Reclaimers, meanwhile, are beginning to feel decidedly unwell. They can tell something’s happening, something’s changing in their minds, and it’s not going to be good. Barry looks over, groaning a bit, and says “Don’t try- don’t try to remember too fast, it’ll be- it’ll be _bad._ You just gotta-”

He tries to say more, but is stopped by a shout from outside. The Director bursts into the room, followed by _Ca-_ Davenport. She claps a hand to her mouth. “Angus? _Barry?_ Oh gods, are you… oh, _no,_ have you inoculated yourselves?”

Barry and his - _bowerbird, she’s a bowerbird_ \- daemon stare her down. “We sure have. And Lucretia, you need, you have to tell them what’s happening. What happened. Their brains can’t take it, you have to help!”

And indeed, the pressure inside their minds is getting worse, curling them over in pain. They’re getting flashes - _red coats, black shadows, a silver streak above them_. And with each flash of - memory? the pain intensifies. 

The Director - _Lucretia_ \- stands before them, tears in her eyes, Arun letting out a mournful cry beside her. “I… Okay. Just follow along, don’t try to think ahead. Taako, Merle, Magnus. There were seven of us, or fourteen if you will. We are- we came here from a different world. We were explorers, studying other realities, with the help of… well, it’s called Dust. And something - something went wrong. We were pursued by a force of destruction beyond comprehension. So when we came here, you six created the alethiometers to hide the Dust. I… I made something different. But we screwed up, we made a mistake, we damned this planet.”

She’s openly crying now, but doesn’t let it stop her. The tears are angry, frustrated, as much as they are sad. “I had to fix things. I fed a record of our mission to the Voidfish. And I made you all forget. I thought I could collect the alethiometers, find… what we needed. But I almost died. So I started the Bureau, built an organization to reclaim them. But only those who created the alethiometers are immune to their pull, and so I needed your help. And then the second Voidfish was born.”

She gestures at the tank. “I created a redundancy. I found you, and brought you into contact with the first alethiometer, and then the Bureau. And you did so well. But we aren’t there yet.”

“The alethiometers… they’re more powerful together, but they emit a stronger signal for the Hunger. It’s on its way, we can’t stop it. The only way to fight it is with the sixth one as well, and… the rest of our crew. I did what I had to do. I tried to let you keep as much as you could, I left you your names. But for our captain… the mission was his life. His name was all he had left. And… and the others…”

Lucretia looks devastated, but Taako is shaking. He’s getting back the shape of something… something life-altering. 

“I am so sorry, Taako, Barry. I tried to rescue them, to bring them home. But I very nearly died in the reconnaissance, and their captors are onto me now. I can’t get back. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save Lup, or Namar, or Nym. And I am so incredibly sorry.”

And Taako remembers. Of course he does, how could he forget three-quarters of his life? His sister, Lup, with her fire and brilliance and constancy through his childhood and the Century. Namar, her daemon, bold and clever and quick. And Nym, his daemon, his _soul._ How could he even describe her? How could he survive, so long apart? 

A scream begins to build in Taako’s throat, emerging hoarse and like the shriek of a bird of prey. He falls to his knees clutching his head, and just barely processes the clatter of metal behind him. But the others see.

They watch as Barry’s flask falls to the ground, spilling ichor across the floor. And Davenport looks up, eyes wide with shock and hurt and horror. Zefira curls into his hair, shaking, and he whispers, “Lucretia… what have you done?”

—

Elsewhere across Faerun, a shift is occurring. The sky is dimming, just barely. Color is leaching from the grass, cheerful spring flowers are going just slightly grey. In shadowy pockets across the world, darkness condenses, blacker than any night. It’s broken only by the flickers of white deep within, a mockery of stars. Pure white eyes flash open across the plane, seeking, searching. They’re getting close. The scouts are on their way. It’ll be over, soon. 

And far to the north, in a palace and a prison, a different set of eyes is watching. They see the encroaching dark, the blinking of spies, and the person to whom they are attached _smiles._

And a gleeful voice echoes through the barren fortress: “Clear the stage, get ready! We’re going to have company calling!”

—

But that’s for later, much later. We’re not concerned with the later, or even the now. The now is a blur of of pain, of confusion and horror and understanding. The unburying of memories, rediscovering the past. And that’s where we’re going. We’re going to relive those memories, as Merle, Taako, and Magnus all are. 

It’s time to regain their stolen century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Just sort of relax your mind and say yes, it does hurt, I know. Don’t try to shut it out.” -Philip Pullman, _The Subtle Knife_


	14. walked into the sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every story starts somewhere. Time to meet the cast and set the stage.

Somewhere very, very different from Faerun, there is what looks like a large lecture hall. The seats are absolutely packed with reporters, observers, and their daemons, with more pushing in on the sidelines and trailing out the door. Yet despite the crowd, it’s utterly silent as all focus intently on the front of the room. Above a stage with a long table and seven chairs, a video has begun to play on a large screen.

A woman’s voice begins narrating as the screen glows with drifting gold particles. “A few years ago, the scientists of the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration became aware of a new form of elementary particle. Some know it as dark matter, or sraf, or Rusakov particles. We gave it the name Dust. And recently, thanks to our very own Dr. Davenport, we developed certain filters and emulsions allowing us to photograph it.”

A series of images begin to flip past on the screen. An adult and a child stand silhouetted against an arctic sky, the adult bathed in golden light streaming down from the heavens. The Aurora Borealis, glowing green against a black night, but engulfing what seemed to be a floating city made out of the same golden glow. A woman and her panther daemon, connected by arcs of golden particles like a magnetic field.

“Dust is attracted to sentient beings, primarily adults. It’s the power that links person and daemon. It is pure, concentrated knowledge, transformed into a kind of energy. And enough of that energy is strong enough, powerful enough, to tear the fabric of our reality and give us access to other planes. Over the past three years, our scientists have managed to capture Dust and condense it into a tangible, physical manifestation of Dust’s power. We call it the Light of Creation, and tomorrow it will be used to set sail on a completely unprecedented voyage of discovery. And now, please give a warm welcome to our brave explorers!”

The room resounds with applause as spotlights flash on and seven figures walk onto the stage, all wearing the uniform red robes of the IPRE. They all react differently to the cheers and acclaim - Barry and Lucretia look awkward, uncomfortable, and take their seats quickly; Davenport looks competent and distinguished with a proud light in his eyes; Magnus waves and blows kisses to the crowd; Merle ignores them completely; and Lup and Taako, the last on stage, give a series of increasingly elaborate bows. But eventually all seven are seated behind a long table, with daemons sitting on perches in front of them. With a cough, Davenport picks up the microphone.

He begins to explain the logistics of the mission. He, as captain of the research vessel Starblaster, will be leading a two month mission to access the outer reaches of the planar system, with the goal of seeing what lies beyond it. They will be able to do this due to the unique power source of the ship - Dust. Davenport continues:

“When we started studying the Light of Creation, we made another discovery. Dust does not just connect person and daemon, as we once thought; it actually connects all sentient beings. The stronger the emotional connection between two people, the more Dust is attracted. And we are now able to tap into those connections, to use that Dust to power our ship. The stronger our crew’s connections, the more power we have to access other planes. As a result, we had two criteria for choosing this crew - first, of course, they are experts in their fields, some of the most talented people I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. And second, it was absolutely imperative that they form strong interpersonal connections. And now, I’m going to open the floor to questions so you can get to know our researchers and the mission a bit better.”

He sits back down and the audience starts shouting out questions. Davenport answers them with as much poise and dignity as he can muster, standing strong against the tide of noise. After a few basic questions, and way too many that he’s already explained, the reporters begin to target questions at the rest of the crew.

A wiry looking man with a sneer on his face asks, “Drs. Taaco, was there any bias involved in the placement of both of you earning spots on this mission? After all, odds of two siblings both making it on the same mission seems highly unlikely.” 

Both glare a little and Taako grabs the mic. “Well, for one, my man, did you miss the fact that this ship is powered by emotional connections? Hard to get closer than twins, dude. Data readings are showing that my sis and I are basically singlehandedly producing over half the ship’s energy. And for another…”

Nym, his killdeer daemon, lets out a sharp, high call as he passes the mic to Lup, who continues, “But that’s not why we were chosen, it’s just a nice side benefit. I’m assuming you didn’t read the press briefings, or you would have noticed that Taako and I have five doctorates between us, he’s earned numerous awards for transmutation prowess, and I’m one of the three scientists who actually _created_ the Light of Creation. So maybe, next time you’re going to accuse someone of nepotism or bias, do your fucking research beforehand.”

She replaces the microphone carefully, the only sound in the audience being a quiet, mocking “Ooh…” Davenport has his face in his hands, but that’s half to hide his smile. After that, questions grow much more respectful. 

“Dr. Davenport, is everyone on the crew a researcher?”

“Well, five of us are, though we specialize in different areas. However, Magnus Burnsides,” and here Magnus stands and flexes, “will be serving as our security officer, as we have to prepare for all possibilities. And Lucretia,” she gives a little wave and Arun ducks his head, “will be serving as recorder and chronicler for the mission. They may not be scientists but they are just as skilled in their respective fields.” Magnus flexes again and Calariel preens a bit.

“Dr. Taaco - er, Dr. Lup Taaco - are you really okay with leaving this world behind for such a long time?” a concerned looking reporter asks. Lup smiles.

“Well, we did this one already. We did this world and kind of… crushed it, so, I guess I’m excited for opportunities to expand the ol’ brand as it were. So yeah, we’re pretty psyched to get off this stink-planet and see what’s out there.”

Magnus gives Lup a high five, and as she does so her northern goshawk daemon, Namar, grabs the mic with his talons. 

“Also! Greg Grimaldis! You owe us fifteen dollars and I aim to collect! You better believe, Greg Grimaldis!” he yells out to a startled audience. With a dramatic flourish, he drops the mic - admittedly not far, as he couldn’t raise his leg very high above the table, but the point gets across. Davenport’s head goes back into his hands, but Zefira’s making the quiet peeping noises that mean she’s trying hard to hold back laughter. 

The press conference wraps up shortly after that, the reporters now thoroughly confused. After a debrief, Magnus decides the best way to celebrate their last night in the plane is go to a dive bar and the rest of the crew bemusedly follow. It’s just a few drinks, what could go wrong?

Two hours later, Magnus has a black eye from fighting a man who was rude to Lucretia; Nym is wearing shoes that Lup and Taako hustled off a different guy who thought he could beat them at pool; Merle and Lucretia are hiding behind the bar, with Solana trying to calm things down while Lucretia just records everything she sees; and Barry, Davenport, Gwynn, and Zefira hang out in a corner just watching the chaos go down, sometimes calling out tips but mostly just pretending to be TV commentators. Zefira in particular does a very good narrator voice. 

It’s chaotic, ridiculous, and Magnus has a black eye by the end of it, but late that night the crew stagger out of the bar with arms thrown around each other’s shoulders, laughing and finally feeling confident with that they can get through this mission with their emotional connections. 

So they embark on the Starblaster the next day, full of joy and fear and anticipation and over everything, excitement. The sky, not catching the general mood, is grey and dark and foreboding, but even that can’t put a damper on the proceedings. They don’t see that it’s not just the sky - that the paint of the launch pad, the colors of onlooker’s clothes are draining of color. That the air is much too still. They don’t catch any of that until it’s much, much too late.

There’s a rip in reality. A giant seam stretches across the sky, torn open by the sheer power of the Light of Creation. And that’s right, that’s what supposed to be happening. What’s _not_ right is that as they exit the plane, something else is coming in.

Through the tearing wind, Taako shouts, “What the _fuck_ is that!!” and Nym cries out an alarm call. Massive tendrils of inky black energy, shot through with a rainbow of colors like a living oil slick, are streaking down out of the sky. More and more stream out of the rip between planes and Davenport is forced to twist and weave between them. Far below, where they impact the plane, a grey energy is dispersed like watercolor paint. The plane, their home, is dying.

Lup shoots streams of fire at the tendrils, and Barry uses every method of countering necromancy that he knows. The daemons, unable to fight from a distance, cluster around the communications array, trying desperately to contact the IPRE, to warn them or figure out what’s happening.

All they get is static.

Magnus roars in anger, furious at himself for having no way to help, to halt this destruction. And Davenport makes the call. 

“We have to go!” he shouts over the noise. “We can come back - we _will_ come back- but we need to get out of here NOW.” 

And so Davenport flies the Starblaster straight through a hole in reality.

It’s instantaneous, but much can happen in an instant. Everything is black, then everything is silver, red, black, white. They are ripped apart into thousands of pieces, stretched in every direction. The entire ship is compressed into a single molecule, then explodes. The Light of Creation vanishes from the ship.

And then they’re back. They’re flying high above the world, the ship intact and all fourteen present. But this is not their world. Their home is urbanized, bright lights visible from space and streaks of grey city through the natural colors. This planet is green, green, green, an endless swathe of forest.

There’s a moment of silence, then Magnus collapses against the rail, eyes wide. 

“Holy fucking shit, _what just happened?_ ” Taako asks in a strangled voice. Nym is shaking, feathers puffed up and wings outstretched at odd angles. The elf continues, clutching tight to the rail, “Did that… that destroyed our home.”

Lup’s very quiet as she reaches for her brother’s hand. “Yeah. Yeah it did.”

Lucretia’s crammed in a corner, looking torn between writing down all she can see and having a panic attack. Arun is one step ahead of her on the latter, and Gwynn and Barry walk over to offer some form of comfort. The twins are clinging to each other so tightly that their knuckles are bone white. Merle and Solana have gone belowdecks, appearing moments later with blankets for Magnus and Lucretia, who are in full blown shock. Only Davenport is holding it together, unshaking hands steering the Starblaster toward a flat patch near the planet’s equator. 

The next few days pass in a haze, a blur of impossible happenings and invisible walls. They try to go back, again and again and again. But the rip they came through seems to have fused shut, become just another patch of sky. They’re stuck here.

They’re trapped, defeated, but still scientists. The mission must go on. So, after the shock settles into some kind of resignation, they go out to explore. And what they find is a world unlike any they’ve seen before. They’d of course heard the horror stories of people without daemons. But they’d never heard of daemons without people, and yet that’s what they find. Or what they think they do, anyway. 

It’s clear the animals on this planet are speaking a language of some form, that they are intelligent beings. They have functioning communities, a peaceful civilization. Taako, Lup, Barry, and daemons are fascinated by this, and spend some time with a family of mongoose in an attempt to learn the language. It takes months, but soon all six can be heard chirruping and growling to each other and the rest of the planet’s inhabitants. 

With their newfound knowledge, they ask about their new surroundings and get some very strange answers. It turns out that no, the animals are not daemons without people. Beings of this plane just do not have daemons, at all. Both halves of their soul are together, one cohesive piece. That takes some getting used to, even if it’s a relief to know the whole plane isn’t severed or something terrible. 

Over time, the fourteen explorers become more integrated into this community. Magnus is a hit with the children, always there to play or tussle or just carry around dozens of fuzzy babies. Lucretia wanders a bit, but never too far, writing down everything she sees. Davenport and Merle attempt to interact with the apparent leaders of this world, the Royal Beasts. They consist of a kodiak bear, snowy owl, and grey wolf, all the size of buildings. The gnome and dwarf are nearly ants in comparison, but they still try their best to communicate, to understand what is happening. Their efforts redouble when they learn that the Beasts have found the disappeared the Light of Creation, and are now refusing to return it. Days and days are lost as the men negotiate to no avail, until finally Magnus can’t take it anymore. 

Dragging Taako along to translate, he marches into the court of the Royal Beasts. Calariel puffs up her feathers and glares as Magnus looks up at a bear that could crush him and proudly shouts, “I’m going to fight you!”

Taako claps his hand to his face but translates. The Beasts just look bemused, and Cal tries to take a more diplomatic approach.

“Look,” she says, “We come from far away, we’ve really travelled a great distance to be here. We recognize proud, brave, strong, intelligent warriors. Warriors like ourselves. And, one of the strongest things a warrior can do-“

She’s cut off by a sound. The Royal Bear, towering above, has started laughing at them. He says, in a voice that booms, “You’re nothing like us. You’re tiny, you’re not furry, you hardly have fangs or claws, I’m not - ”

But this time, he’s the one cut off. Eyes narrowed and jaw set, Magnus snaps, “Fuck. Off.” Calariel screeches. 

That doesn’t go over well. The Bear growls, long and deep, and waves a paw. From the side of the court, a regular sized, yet still terrifying grizzly bear charges the pair. There’s no time to think, just to react. Cal leaps into the air as Magnus turns, ducks, and in one smooth motion uses the bear’s own momentum to throw it over his significantly smaller shoulder. As it lands, Cal swoops down to rake it with her claws - not enough to seriously injure, but to snatch some fur and get her point across. The Royal Bear stands up, an odd glint in his eye, but there’s no time to wonder, as the grizzly has turned and is charging again. This time, Magnus doesn’t duck. Instead, he stands his ground until the last second, where he swivels, grabs some fur, and pulls himself onto the grizzly’s back. The bear bucks and rears, trying to dislodge him, but Magnus holds tight, arms wrapped around its neck. Cal flies in front of it, diving and slashing in its face and overall doing her best to confuse it as slowly, slowly Magnus chokes it into unconsciousness. Eventually, the bear slumps, and from the sidelines Nym and Taako quietly cheer.

Magnus gently drops the bear’s head on the ground and turns to face the Royal Bear. “Look, I’m not huge, I may not have claws or fangs. But I’m definitely not helpless, and neither is anyone here with me. We deserve a bare minimum of your respect.”

For a long moment, the court is silent. Then the Royal Bear laughs again. “Yes, it seems you do. You’re quite impressive, little ones. But how would you like to learn more?”

Magnus smiles, sharp and bright, as from his shoulder Cal says, “I think we’d like that very much.”

Magnus and Cal spend the next few months training and working with the Royal Beasts. They do try to get back the Light of Creation, but don’t get far. The Beasts are rather attached to it - Dust is less common in their plane, a plane without daemons, so access to this much concentrated energy and knowledge has given them significant advances and technology. They’re unwilling to part with something so powerful.

With that seemingly a lost cause, focus turns to training. Over time, Cal and Magnus grow stronger, braver, wiser. Over the course of weeks of lessons they learn how to fight, but also when to fight, and why. 

It’s at one of these sessions, a year after their arrival, that disaster strikes. The court is gathered, with the Starblaster’s crew as guests, to watch Magnus and the Royal Bear spar. But mid-fight, something changes. The air itself grows dark, and a storm grows silently. And high, high above, a rip begins to form in the fabric of the sky. 

Magnus stops, and Cal starts wheeling overhead. “Shit, shit everybody get to safety!” he yells, pointing up at the sky. The Royal Bear looks up, seems a bit puzzled, and goes over to convene with the rest of the Royal Beasts. There’s a strange atmosphere in the crowd - the Starblaster’s crew are clearly terrified, but why? What could frighten them so much? the animals wonder.

The wonder stops abruptly as the first tendril of black, oily energy slams down out of the sky and onto the Royal Beasts. In an instant, the owl, bear and wolf, along with the Light they had been holding, are crushed to oblivion. And all hell breaks loose.

There’s screaming, shrieking, the howls of a thousand species in the air as all run for cover, dodging yet more life-ending tendrils. And not just tendrils, anymore. Thousands upon thousands of shadowy black creatures have come down from the rift, emitting the same grey energy as what destroyed the last plane they touched. Taako grabs Lup’s hand and sprints for the ship, Namar and Nym flying alongside. As they run, Lup shoots fire in every direction, trying to destroy the inky masses and creatures. It doesn’t even make a dent.

Davenport and Lucretia are already on the ship and firing it up. Barry is sticking close to the twins, holding his bowerbird Gwynn to his chest as she’s not the swiftest flyer. Merle is second to last on the Starblaster, having tried to keep an eye on all his friends, make sure they got back. But despite Solana’s keen eyes, no one sees where Magnus and Cal have gone.

Because they didn’t run. It’s not in their nature, to flee, to run away, to abandon those who need help. So they stay behind, in this chaos and pandemonium, and try to help where they can. Cal swoops up smaller creatures, taking them to relative safety, while Magnus fights. He uses whatever he can find - shovels, staves, anything he can hit with. He takes down one, two, dozens of creatures, before it’s just too much. 

Magnus is overrun. He’s pierced through the heart by a spear of black energy and collapses to the ground, vision greying. He can feel Calariel starting to fade as he looks up into the sky. The last thing he sees is a tiny silver ship, high above, darting through the tear between planes. They made it. And with that, he closes his eyes and feels Cal disappear entirely. Then there’s only black.

 

And then Magnus opens his eyes. He’s on the Starblaster, collapsed on the floor. He and Cal are _alive_. Around him are his twelve friends, his family, haphazardly thrown around the room and groaning as they get up. It feels like they’ve been ripped apart and crushed at the same time.

And when Cal checks, a suspicious understanding forming in her mind, Magnus has a black eye, just like he’d had a year ago. It’s a reset. Everyone is alive. Everyone is exactly as they were when they left their home plane.

The sky outside the ship is pitch black, then flashes with a million bright white eyes. And when they fade, outside is a new sky. A new plane. A new cycle. 

A stronger enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So Lyra and her dæmon turned away from the world they were born in, and looked towards the sun, and walked into the sky." - Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	15. poisoned and desolate shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hearts are torn apart; lives are changed, risked, and ended; and Lup makes a decision.

The years repeat, over and over. Fleeing this monster, this Hunger and its shadow creatures, being chased to new worlds in a desperate scramble. Sometimes they find the Light, the world survives, continues on without them. Sometimes they all make it through the year, all escape the plane with white knuckles and hands clasped tight.

But sometimes they don’t. Some years, the Light of Creation is lost, or claimed by a powerful force, or simply out of reach. Sometimes all fourteen watch in horror and pain as the Hunger approaches, as its shadows leach life from the world. But sometimes it’s twelve, or eight, or six. Many cycles, they die. Magnus and Cal are poisoned, or Barry and Gwynn bleed out, or Taako and Nym fall too fast for magic to catch them. 

And sometimes, they’re faced with a pain far worse than death. 

 

It happens to Magnus first. They’d spent the year peacefully, as this world was heart-wrenchingly similar to their own. Instead of animals, it’s populated by peoples of all races, with daemons just like home. The weary travelers are invited to this plane’s great science institute for an exchange of knowledge and ideas. It’s familiar, peaceful. Except, despite all the help of the locals, they cannot find the light. 

So now it’s the end of the sixth cycle, and a desperate scramble to escape the encroaching dark. 

The seven crew members of the Starblaster have done their best to save the people of this world, but they are failing. The sky is black, the air is full of screams, and around the ship, war rages. They fight, and fight, and fight, but more people and daemons are falling than agents of the Hunger. The fight forces the crew back toward the ship, until the fourteen are back to back in a desperate scramble. The raptors lash out at the Hunger, talons slashing through spectral figures. Lup blasts fireballs at the immense black tendrils, and Taako transmutes fragments of them into stone, or wood, or crystal. 

And yet the Hunger is encroaching, drawing ever nearer. Magnus slashes with his axe, holding back the tide of darkness, but it’s not enough. They’re losing, and badly.

Davenport makes the call. He yells, “Run for the ship! We have to go!” 

Their defensive formation breaks, and all seven make a dead sprint for the ship. Lup and Namar lead the way, blasting a path with fire, while Magnus and Cal take up the rear. One by one, they race onto the Starblaster, Davenport leaping for the helm and taking off as soon as Magnus’s foot steps onto the gangway. They’re lifting off, the hatch is closing, they’re making it out, and then - 

The ship shakes and sways as one of the largest tendrils crashes into it from the side. Lucretia is knocked to the floor, papers scattering. Zefira takes a bad hit on the wall, stunning her. But Magnus is still in the doorway, has not yet truly boarded the ship. The blast hits mere moments before the door is properly shut, but it was enough.

Magnus Burnsides is thrown from the Starblaster, arms outstretched but grasping only air. Taako will always be haunted by the memory of his eyes, widening in horror in the moment before the doors shut. But that was only the beginning of the nightmare. Half an instant after they close, Calariel hits the doors, racing to save him, be with him. Instead, she crumples to the ground, still. And then she begins to scream. 

It’s a scream of anguish, of terror and pain and suffering. It’s the sound of the heart being ripped out of your chest, of losing all you’ve ever loved. Of having your soul torn in two. 

Daemons and their partner have a sacred bond, the connection of being and soul. But the connection is more than metaphorical - it’s as if a string, a cord connects the two. There’s a limit on how far a bond can stretch, of how much a pair can separate. Most pairs spend their entire lives within a few yards of each other, or even less sometimes, in fear of the pain of that invisible pull. But there is much more than a few yards separating Cal and Magnus now.

As the crumpled hawk continues to scream, Lucretia turns to Davenport with tears in her eyes. “Captain!” she shouts. “We have to do something! We have to go back!”

Jaw set, Davenport stares straight ahead, eyes fixed on the planar rift before him. “We can’t! We’re out of time, we can’t go back! He’s gone!”

Taako looks like he’s going to throw up. “He’s not dead. Cal’s still here. He’s not dead.”

“We’ll get him back.” Davenport sounds seriously shaken, but unwavering. “As soon as we get out of here, he’ll be back.” 

So they continue on, toward the tear in the sky, as they have four times so far. Cal eventually falls silent, unconscious from the pain. Arun and Nym curl up at her sides, offering what comfort they can. Finally, after what feels like endless hours, they reach that flash of light, the reset of the world. They wake up, slumped on the Starblaster’s deck. All fourteen of them. 

Calariel is in Magnus’s arms before anyone can blink. Magnus is shaking, his strong arms wrapped oh-so-carefully around his daemon, his heart, his soul. They spend long minutes on the floor of the deck as the others look on. But after a few moments, the crew disperses. Davenport, looking sick to his core, leaves for his rooms, with Merle following. Taako and Lup rush to the kitchen, pulling together hot cocoa and other comfort foods that Magnus and Cal love. 

Usually, this first day in a new cycle would be spent exploring, researching, evaluating the new world they’ve found themselves in. But not this time. By some silent agreement, dusk falls and the Starblaster stays in a quiet orbit high above the world. Magnus and Cal have hardly moved, though they now find themselves draped in blankets and all the comforts that could be found on the ship. Scattered around are empty mugs, crumpled tissues, and twelve beloved family members. They had tried to get on with the day, tried to pretend it was normal, get some work done. But two by two they’d been drawn back to the deck, back to their friends.

It’s times like this they remember just how young Magnus is. In sleep, his face relaxed from its earlier terror, it’s hard to forget that he’s only twenty years old. Back home, he should be worried with finishing school, maybe dating, thinking about potential careers still as “what I’ll do when I grow up.” Instead, he’s here. He’s on his seventh new world, his seventh year of being twenty years old. And he just had his soul ripped away from him.

The sun dawns the next day on cold, empty beds, their blankets purloined for a much better task. The Starblaster’s common room is quite crowded, now - it was never meant as sleeping quarters for one, let alone fourteen. But you’d be hard pressed to argue that to the individuals in that room, draped over and curling into each other, taking comfort from contact and the knowledge _we’re together. We’re safe._

It’s days later, up on the open deck of the ship, that a realization is made. Taako and Magnus are sitting against the rails, their daemons playing in the wind. They’re chatting about nonsense when Taako feels an unpleasant tug in his chest. He glances over at the daemons, where the wind had buffeted them back down the ship.

“Hey, Nym?” he calls gently, hiding his discomfort. “Mind coming back a bit?”

In an instant, she’s back at his side. “Sorry, sorry!”

“Nah, it’s cool,” he says, stroking her wings. “We’re both good at ignoring this shit.”

Taako glances over at Magnus, then at Cal for a long second, his brow furrowed. She’s still at the far end of the ship, further even than Nym had been.

Casually as he can, Taako asks, “Hey, Mags, how’re you feeling?”

“Uh, fine, I guess?” he responds, puzzled. “Why, is there some reason I shouldn’t be?” 

Taako frowns more, and Nym leans up close against him. They’ve both realized what’s off. 

This time, Nym voices it. “What’s your range? With Cal, I mean.”

Magnus frowns now too, and glances down at Cal, who’s now playing in the slipstreams off the Starblaster’s stern. “Er, four, five yards, ten max?” His voice trails off. Cal is a good twenty yards off now, slowly drifting further as she’s distracted by playing. Magnus tenses. 

“Cal!” he shouts, anxiety spiking. “Cal, come back! Shit!” He turns to Taako, face hard. “Get Merle.”

Taako and Nym race through the ship, and soon are running back with a panting cleric trailing behind. When they get back up to the top, Magnus and Cal are collapsed against the rail, Cal’s talons digging in to Magnus’s arm so much that it has to hurt. 

Solana waves the elf and killdeer away as Merle pulls out his Xtreme Teen Bible and begins to mutter some diagnostic spells. They comply, heading back into the ship and toward the kitchen. Silently, they start planning and finding ingredients for some comfort foods - it seems like they’re going to need it.

About an hour later, Merle, Solana, Magnus, and Cal come inside, faces oddly blank. Merle looks around at the crowd that has gathered, anxiously waiting for any news, and he claps his hands.

“So! Magnus and Cal say I can explain but keep in mind Fantasy HIPAA in the future, guys,” he jokes in an attempt to break the tension. It falls flat so he sighs and continues. “Let’s get past the elephant in the room first: they’re not severed. Believe me, we’d know if they were, but as both are still like… conscious, living people with personalities and the ability to care about shit, we can cross that off the list. I’m going to have to keep observing, but it seems like instead, we’ve got a pretty harmless phenomena that’s previously unknown to science. Magnus, Cal, you want to take it from here?”

“Sure, why not,” Magnus sighs. Taako can’t quite read his expression, but he’s not surprised by that - the man has a lot to process right now. “Well, we’re fine? We will be fine? We’re just… different now.”

He trails off and Cal picks up. “We’re still connected, still can pick up emotions and thing from each other. But… okay, the best way I can describe it is the bond has gotten stretchier. It’s still there, it’s whole. But we don’t seem to have any distance constraints like we used to? Obviously, we need to run some more tests and Barry, Lup, we’d appreciate your help with that? But preliminary, bullshit excuses for scientific experiments seem to imply that if Magnus and I even have a max separation, it’s over a mile.”

Lucretia sucks in a breath and Gwynn puffs up. Barry and Lup have interesting expressions - a mixture of care and love for their friends and what they’ve been through, crossed with keen eyed scientific fascination. 

Magnus sighs again. “Now you know everything we do. I’m down to do more tests, but later, please? I’m fucking exhausted.” 

“Alright, homie, but don’t go off to bed yet,” Taako says. “C’mon, get some food in you first.”

Taako pulls Magnus and Cal into the kitchen, where a table is laden with all of Magnus’s favorite foods - mac and cheese, cauliflower curry, dark chocolate brownies. Magnus gives Taako a grateful look and dives in. The elf leaves him to it, heading back out to the main room. Barry and Lup and already poring through papers, frantically scribbling notes with their daemons throwing theories at each other. Taako gives them a weak smile and joins a perturbed looking Lucretia and Arun on the couch. They don’t talk, just lean against each other, lost in thoughts of hurts and implications. 

The cycles continue, year after year. Many are peaceful, home to nomadic storytellers or vast cities of metal and glass. Others are less so - the people may be hostile to strangers, or the environment itself is inhospitable. Merle is particularly struck by the plight of the people on a planet covered in towering mushrooms and toxic spores. He and Solana spend the year caring for the inhabitants, offering comfort and peace in a hopeless world. And when the year ends, and darkness falls, Merle and Solana stay. They look after their people until the very end.

But Merle and Solana are not the only ones lost that cycle. Magnus and Cal succumbed to the deadly spores months ago, so five beings and daemons make their way into the sky, toward the rift. They’re mere moments away, dodging immense tendrils of inky blackness doing their best to destroy all life. Davenport is a phenomenal captain, weaving through the sky around these monstrous pillars. But for the first time in years, the Hunger changes tactics. Instead of the tendrils, the shadowy figures begin to swarm around the ship. They’re shot with all types of weapons and magic available, but they just keep coming in endless waves. And a split second before the Starblaster flies through the rift, one gets just close enough. A monstrous snake made of iridescent smoke leaps for the ship and catches Nym in its massive fangs. With a shrieking alarm call, she’s ripped from the ship and into the swirling blackness. Taako screams, an instant of pure terror and pain. Then they’re through the rift, they shift planes and reform, and Nym is back. 

But they’re like Magnus and Cal, now. And while those two had quickly adjusted after the initial shock, using their new talent for scouting and exploring, Taako and Nym do not. They try their best to brush it off, to act like it doesn’t affect them. But outside of the rare experiment that Lup and Namar can talk them into, the elf and killdeer remain joined at the hip, if anything closer than they had been before. 

Years later, there’s a plane where they find stories, tucked deep in endless underground libraries. Stories of mythological figures, a type of magic user that best translates to “witches.” Many details don’t make a lot of sense - flight granted by some kind of naturally magical boughs of pine, a goddess of death none recognize from any known pantheon. But two startling details occurred over and over in each scrap of legend they can find. First, all witches’ daemons take the form of birds. And more pertinently, whispers spoke of a coming of age ritual, of the witches going to a land where their daemons could not follow and coming back to find them able to fly unlimited distances across the globe. The stories called this ‘untethering,’ and the resident bond experts Barry, Lup, Davenport, and their daemons determined that it was some form of what their friends had gone through. 

They crew finds all the knowledge they can, but it’s not useful for much except reassurances that yes, Magnus and Cal and Taako and Nym will be okay. Or at least, not much until the seventeenth cycle. This world is a shining city of metal - or it was, once. Now solitary buildings stand out from the crumbling wreckage, remnants of a world shattered, decomposing, but without any life left to overtake it. But lifeless does not mean abandoned.

The world is inhabited by robots, creatures of metal and electricity, the last vestiges of a once-great civilization. But the robots are sentient, with a glow at their core indicating the presence of what once was a daemon. Fascinated by these people and this decaying world, Merle, Solana, Lucretia, and Arun set out together. They want to know this planet’s stories, to record the last voices of a dying civilization. Merle reaches out, asks questions, befriends strangers with his rough charm. Lucretia follows, shadowing him quietly and writing down what is said. Together, they learn the history of this world, how a great plague swept through and killed all life. The robots were beings, once - humans and dwarves and elves and all kinds, with daemons just like anyone else. But with the sickness threatening, a wizard found a solution: he could take the essence of person and daemon and encase it in these robotic forms. The light shining out of their cores is a manifestation of Dust, the visible signs of two halves of a soul kept in one body.

Lucretia _thrives_ here. She’s a biographer, she’s been writing down the stories of others as long as she can remember. But this is so much more than writing the memoirs of a famous athlete, as she muses to Merle one night.

It’s been a long day talking and exploring and writing, and now the four are collapsed in a heap on the Starblaster’s top deck. Lucretia’s flipping through her notes, adding extra details and translating shorthand. After a few minutes of this, though, she looks up at her companion.

“Thank you, Merle, for doing this.” 

The dwarf starts a bit. “Huh? For what?”

This time, it’s soft-spoken Arun who speaks up, and Solana’s eyes widen. He very rarely does so, and the rest of the crew have learned that when he speaks, it’s best to listen.

“Thank you for thinking these stories worth saving. We spent our whole life recording stories of our world, but most of them are lost with it now. This world has so many stories, so much history, so much that should be remembered. But if we can’t find the Light, it’s over. We can’t take the people, we can’t save them. But thank you for taking the stories.”

“Oh, I’m not the one taking them!” Merle laughs, a bit thrown. “I’m just sticking my nose in places, asking around. I’m finding the stories, but _you’re_ taking them. You’re the ones recording them, remembering them so they can be shared again.”

Solana adds on, quietly, “Don’t sell yourselves short. This is a team effort, and you’re a vital part of that team.”

Lucretia flushes and Arun ducks his head. The rest of the night is spent in a comfortable silence.

The rest of the crew has just as enjoyable a time on this plane. With the help of some of the robots, Magnus fits a giant robotic arm onto the Starblaster. He claims it’s for retrieving the Light, but it also looks pretty dang cool. Taako, Nym, Lup, and Namar, meanwhile - well, Lup calls it exploring, archaeology, research, excavating. Taako calls it looting with reckless abandon.

Together they explore the lower levels of the city, the places that have been abandoned for eons. They find shattered glass, rusting shards of twisted metal, and gritty concrete dust. But there are useful discoveries too. One momentous afternoon, Lup finds a gun and the day is spent shooting the wreckage in joyful chaos, Namar laughing wildly. But more importantly, they find metal plating, energy sources - items that could be used to repair the ship if disaster struck. 

And they find something else, too, in their last week on this plane. Deep in the lowest levels of the city, where not even the robots remember, there’s a glow. A warm, golden light leaks up out of shattered concrete, and with a few spells the twins realize its source is _incredibly_ powerful. So instead of diving straight in, they gather the rest of the crew for backup. 

Soon, all fourteen of the crew stand in a cavern made of twisted rebar and jutting concrete. But sitting incongruously in this room is a massive crystal, lit from within by swirling golden light. 

Hesitantly, Zefira approaches it. “I think… remember the early attempts at the Light? When we were trying to fix Dust into something, instead of converting it into solid form? This looks a lot like our scrapped projects.”

Barry looks on, eyes wide. “That’s… a lot of Dust. Not as much as the Light, but a lot.”

Lucretia quietly speaks up. “I think I know what this is.” The others turn to look and she shrinks a bit, but goes on. “There are stories about the creation of the robots, of how they still manage to live. Hints of records of a power source, hidden somewhere on the planet, that keeps them going, keeps them alive. I think we found it.”

There’s silence for a moment, contemplation. Then Davenport sighs.

“This is so much power. The Hunger… We haven’t found the Light this round. It’s going to absorb it again, get stronger. We- we can’t let it get this too.” He doesn’t look happy, but he’s clearly made up his mind.

Merle frowns. “Well we can’t take it with us. Do you mean… destroy it?”

Taako shrugs. “Alright, let’s go then.” He picks up a piece of rebar and starts twirling it. But before he can make a move, Lup steps forward. She stands between the crew and the crystal, dark eyes focused and shoulders tensed. Namar, on her shoulder, looks wary. 

“No,” she states firmly. “This isn’t right. Destroying this would kill every single being on this plane. We can’t do that.”

Taako looks exasperated. “Okay, but like, you know that’s happening anyway, right? Yes, it sucks, but I’m just being a pragmatist over here! If the robots don’t die now they’ll just be absorbed into the Hunger with this rock and it’ll get more powerful!”

She looks defensive, now. “Are we just going to burn every world we can’t save? Just so the Hunger can’t use it? How does that make us any better than it?” Namar lets out a sharp cry. They’re both getting pretty agitated.

“Ugh, this is fucking complicated,” Magnus groans. “I don’t want to kill them. I like the robots. But do we want to make it harder to save any future worlds?”

“You, Magnus Burnsides, are telling us it makes sense to kill an entire world just so our enemy can’t get a little stronger?” Namar snaps. 

Lup joins in. “We don’t even know for sure what happens to the worlds absorbed!” 

“That’s not-“

“We can’t-“

“But what if-“

Merle’s been quiet, but now his murmur cuts through the noise. “This isn’t our call to make.”

All eyes turn to him. “This isn’t our call. These aren’t our people. We do not get to make this decision for an entire civilization. They should get to choose.”

All those who had been bickering moments earlier slump a bit in shame, but agree. Lup still looks angry but quietly vindicated. As the fourteen climb out of the cavern, back into the world, she falls back, whispering with Barry. 

They make their way to the center of the city, to the gathering of robots considered the leaders of this fractured society. They explain their case - both sides of it. And then the robots deliberate. 

A tall, elegant but battered robot comes back with the verdict. “We’ve been through...a lot, here. And, this force that you’re describing, it sounds pretty tough, but, I feel like we’ve been through worse and I haven’t met a force yet that can make me go against my will.” She raises up a twisted staff of rebar. “So, if the other option is the absolute destruction of myself and my people, I— I refuse destruction and I refuse to be consumed.”

Merle nods. “Thank you.”

Lup steps forward. “We’ve got a few days, still. I know your people are strong, but I’d like to work with you, to help you train. You deserve the best chance you can get.”

The robot nods. “That would be amenable.”

So in the last few days, Lup and Namar can be seen sparring, correcting stances, handing out salvaged weapons to the robot populace. After a few hours of indecision, Magnus and Cal join them. They train, and they fight, and they plan. And over those days, Lup does not return to the Starblaster.

The final day dawns, painfully bright and washed out before the storm gathers. As the sky begins to blacken yet again, Barry, Lup, Namar, and Gwynn stand to face their family.

“So we’ve been researching bonds, and daemons, and untethering, and two things just kind of came to a head here, I guess,” Lup says. “I won’t leave these people alone. I won’t be flying out with you.” She pauses a moment, to steel herself. “But Namar will.”

Over the gasps and disagreements that ensue, Gwynn continues. “I’ll be staying with her. Barry will go with you.”

“We’ve done the research, we know the dangers and side effects. But… we need an edge, and I think Lup and I have figured out a way to give us one, okay?” Barry says, almost pleading. “We need you to trust us.”

Nobody is happy, but they’re short on time. Soon most of the crew are aboard the ship, leaving an elf, a human, a bowerbird, and a goshawk on the gangway. Barry and Lup look each other in the eyes for a moment, and then they reach out to each other.

There’s an unwritten rule of every society: _no one_ touches another’s daemon. It’s like reaching into someone’s chest to hold their heart. But there’s one exception to this rule, and that’s people with whom you’d _trust_ your heart. 

So Lup very gently reaches out, and Gwynn steps into her hands. Namar walks down her arm, pauses a moment, and confidently steps out onto Barry’s. They stand there for another moment, silently, so many things to say and yet none that need to be said. And then Barry turns and steps onto the ship.

Already looking pained, he hurries through the ship and into his room, locking the door behind him and Namar. Lup stands before the ship, standing tall but eyes tight with pain. She gives a wave and the doors close. The Starblaster departs, and muffled screams begin to leak out of Barry’s room. 

Lup and Gwynn stand defiant against the sweeping blackness, pain ripping through their chests. There may not be much they can do. They may not be able to save this plane, or the next, or the next. They may not be able to save their friends, their family. 

But they can damn well try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It felt as if an iron hand had gripped his heart and was pulling it out between his ribs, so that he pressed his hands to the place and vainly tried to hold it in... and Will was nearly overcome by a mixture of pain and shame and fear and self-reproach, because he himself had caused it... So Will knew that all those things were part of having a daemon, and that whatever his daemon was, she, too, was left behind, with Pantalaimon, on that poisoned and desolate shore." - Philip Pullman, _The Amber Spyglass_


	16. death is going to die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Parlay. Hi there, John.

Reforming the next cycle is a solemn affair. There’s silence as Barry, Lup, and their daemons rush into a tangle of limbs, a desperate hug. And then Lup and Namar stand to face the others. 

“Listen. That stuff we were saying down there — that wasn’t just, that wasn’t just talk,” the daemon says. “I believe that we can get one up over the Hunger. And we’re gonna find a way to defeat that fucker and... save everybody inside of it. We have to believe that, to keep doing what we do. Because I have to believe that I’m gonna get...those fifteen dollars back from Greg fucking Grimaldis!” He smiles a bit at the end, and the others laugh. Lup takes over. 

“Seriously, though, we got dark down there. I know this journey’s been hard, and it’s only going to get harder, but we can’t allow ourselves to— to get to that place again. To even think about destroying an entire world. We need to promise each other, right now, we won’t let one another get to that place. Never again.” She looks around at her friends, her family, her crew.

“Deal,” Nym says, and Taako puts his hand out. One by one, with smiles and tears, the others join him, seven hands stacked together. And then the ship, helm abandoned by Davenport in favor of solidarity, veers to the side and they crash to the ground in a haphazard mess. They laugh, they make some kind of hug pile, and they get up and get going, hearts lighter. 

The cycles pass in an endless march, and soon the crew of the Starblaster find themselves at their thirtieth year. This plane is one of the more lively worlds, covered in dozens of civilizations with vibrant cultures. And unlike many of the worlds they’ve seen over the years, this one is completely at peace.

The reason for this peace is revealed when they find the Light of Creation. It had fallen in the oldest civilization on the plane, a city called Tesseralia. The crew of the Starblaster and their daemons are welcomed in with open arms, treated as revered guests. And after a period of polite investigation and vetting, the governor of the city informs them that yes, they do have the Light, and it is guarded in the First Monastery. 

Abbess Oriana meets with them in a room shimmering with golden light through stained-glass windows. She’s elegant and fierce, her secretary bird daemon as regal as his counterpart. She explains that in order for her to relinquish the Light, for her to trust them with the responsibility that entails, a member of their party will have to train in their monastery, learn their ways and prove their worth.

Merle and Solana volunteer. While Magnus spends the year teaching children some kind of sport, and Taako and Lup have culinary adventures, Merle meditates. He and Solana spend their time in the monastery, following the Abbess and learning patience, peace, serenity. And after months of learning and waiting and contemplating, Abbess Oriana teaches them the plane’s greatest resource.

“We call it Parlay, and you’ve both proven yourselves, proven your desire and capability for peace,” she says. “You can use this to summon anyone, any entity from anywhere, to an extra-dimensional meeting space in order to talk and negotiate.”

“Well, that sure sounds useful,” Merle laughs. “What’s the catch?”

“Parlay is an act of extreme humility, of proving your commitment to peace. So you cannot harm your guest in any manner…” she trails off.

“But?” Solana asks, impatient.

“Well, they can still kill you.” The Abbess admits sheepishly.

Merle and Solana lock eyes, then shrug.

“Surprisingly, that’s actually not a deal breaker.” 

“Yeah, I think we’ll be good.”

“Well, it’s good to know you’re truly committed!” she says, pleasantly surprised. “Let’s get started, then.”

They’re taken to a sparsely furnished room, just a single cushion on the ground. Golden light streams down onto the other members of the Starblaster’s crew, gathered for this ceremony. There’s a huddle for a moment - are they sure about this? who will they try to meet? - before they’re led to the pillow. From his seat, Merle gives an awkward wave.

“Well, see you in… a few minutes? Or months? Fuck it, let’s do this!”

And they close their eyes and fade away. 

Merle and Solana are in what seems to be a boardroom of some sort, utterly neutral and incredibly incongruous for it. Empty picture frames line the walls, and large bay windows open onto a barren wasteland, an empty tundra of deathly white snow. They stand on one end of a long table, a single chair before them. On the other side, his back turned, stands a man. He’s tall and thin, wearing a crisp black suit. No daemon is clearly visible. 

“Uh, hey there,” Merle calls awkwardly, dropping into the chair. The man turns, looking utterly shocked. He glances at Merle for a moment, but his attention seems intensely focused on Solana. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then coughs a moment. He takes a drink from a glass of water - wait, that wasn’t there before, was it? - and then tries again.

In a voice sounding raspy with disuse, the man says, “Well, this is new. Did you do this? Did you bring me here?”

“Yeah, sure did. Welcome to the parlay room, I guess,” the dwarf says. “I’m Merle. Highchurch. Merle Highchurch.”

“I’m Solana,” his daemon says softly as ever, golden eyes locked onto the man’s. He stares back, amused and almost… wistful?

No, not wistful. Hungry.

Unnerved but doing his best to hide it, Merle asks, “So, you got a name? They’re useful things for conversations, kind of the bare bones required to know someone, you know.”

The man pauses. “I do… I do think I have a name. But I’d rather not tell you yet, if that’s alright? This is - strange…” He’s fidgeting with his hands, twisting them around each other. It’s not as if he’s nervous or distracted, but more like he’d forgotten just what hands could do. “I’m not used to this, I think I need a minute.”

“That’s fine, take however much time you need. I’ve got all day.” Merle leans back in his chair and watches the man pace. He keeps fidgeting, shaking out limbs and tapping various objects. Eventually though, he turns back and takes a seat across the table. 

Fingers tapping, he asks, “So, how did you find me?”

“Well, uh, we’ve been watching your career, you might say. Observing. We want to get to know you, I guess,” Merle says jovially. 

The man laughs. “Oh, okay, wow. Nice to meet - a fan, I guess? But if it’s all the same, I’d like to leave now. Can I do that?”

“Well, we won’t stop you. But you seem like you might be… _lonely,_ ” Solana bites out, “and we’d like to propose a trade of information. I mean, you must be extremely interested in us and our friends, since, well, you've been _hunting us_ for years and years and years.” 

“I’ve been hunting you?” the man asks, a curious light in his eyes. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, the thing is, you've kind of been chasing us and our friends, our family, our team as we’ve kind of hopped, skipped, and jumped around to different planes,” Merle says, hand resting on Solana’s back. “And so yeah, we just thought maybe you’d like to get to know the folks you're tracking down and actually have killed a buttload of times.” 

“Huh, doesn’t seem like it took,” the man says, again focused on Solana. “But if I've been hunting you, I don’t think I need information. It kind of seems like I've got you right here.”

A black fireball emerges from his hand, hitting Merle square in the chest. He falls to the ground, Solana winking out in an instant.

And they’re back on the Starblaster, surrounded by their anxious family. 

Of course, they have to try again. Solana’s not thrilled with the idea, but she knows this is their best chance. So a few days into their new cycle, they’re back in this boardroom. And so is the man.

He looks just as surprised this time, but less fidgety. “Okay, interesting,” he muses. “You were being honest. Sorry about killing you, I guess - I needed to know I could get out. But I guess I’m down to talk this time around.”

“Good,” Merle says. “Because I mean, we’re staking our life on this, maybe that’ll give you an idea of how serious we are here. But even if you kill us over and over, we’ll just come back. You wouldn’t get anything out of it. You wouldn’t really kill us.” 

“It’s really in both our interests to talk, to learn a little,” Solana says, eyes sharp. The man smiles back.

“That’s a good point! Well, take a seat I guess,” he says, doing the same himself. “You said your name was Solana? And Merle?”

“That’s right,” Merle says. “And you are?”

“Well, I believe it was John,” he says, thinking. “You have to understand, Merle, I haven’t exactly been _me,_ been John, for quite some time.”

“So, what’ve you been up to when you haven’t been John?” Merle asks.

“Well, you say we’ve been pursuing you, so I think you know that.” He laughs. “But I’m in an uncomfortable position here, Merle, Solana. There’s something I want. There’s something I'm trying to do, and I've been at it for a long time, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t... bored, I guess.” 

Too quietly for John to hear, Solana hisses, _”Lonely.”_

He seems to hear anyway and smiles brightly at her. “It’s kind of nice to talk to somebody, so I think this will be interesting. I'd like to learn more about your invincibility, and I don’t mind sharing a little bit about myself, I suppose, but I need you to understand that there are things that I'm going to do, and there’s not much that either of us can do about that, to stop it. But as long as we’re here, let’s talk, sure. And I'll tell the truth, as long as you promise to as well. What do you say?”

Voice wary, Solana says, “We accept. So long as you keep your word, we’ll tell the truth.” 

“Thank you!” he calls out, smiling. “Now I can’t stay long, I need to know this isn’t a trap.” His voice grows sickly sweet. “This _isn’t_ a trap, is it, Solana?”

Merle replies. “No, not a trap. This is just a few folks trying to get to know each other. How about we trade a question for a question?”

John sits back, beaming. “I like that idea quite a lot. You want to go first?”

Merle and Solana lock eyes for a second, thinking. Then with a sigh, Merle speaks. “Well, what are you after?”

“Well, that’s a big question there, Merle.” He thinks for a moment. “Well, peace, I suppose? Freedom, in a way. It’s - oh gods, there are so many pieces to this question. I am a man, Merle, who knows the answers to too many questions. I know why we’re here. I know why daemons settle, I know how Dust works. I know about the limitlessness of the planes. And to be frank, I don’t like it. There are laws and limitations placed on every living thing that they are never made aware of. But once you know them, Merle, Solana, once you see them, they are too cruel to bear.

“And so what I want, Merle, is to grow, I suppose. I want to be free, I want to help others be free. I take it that you've seen me absorb and expand in the wild. I'm doing this, Solana, not out of spite or malice. I'm doing this to become larger than those limitations can contain, to overtake whatever capricious creator installed those limitations in the first place. That’s a long-winded answer, and probably more than you were looking for. I just, I want to grow, Merle. I want us all to grow.” 

Merle and Solana are silent, somewhere between shocked and contemplative. John’s remarkably calm, almost content.

“Okay, my turn now,” he says. “Merle… how do you come back to life? If you die, how is she still here?” He’s staring at Solana again.

Merle actually laughs. “I wish I could tell you, man! I really don’t know.”

“Now, Merle, for this to work, I need you to be honest with me,” John says politely, but with steel in his voice and a flicker of flame in his hand. 

“He’s being honest. We really don’t know,” Solana snaps, tense and desperate. “We die and then we’re back.” 

John’s face settles into something unclear. “You’re back to where, exactly?”

“It’s like this big room? On a ship,” Merle says, uncertain.

“Oh, so you’re traveling between planes on a ship, then,” John muses.

Solana stiffens. “I think it’s our turn to ask you another question.”

“Yeah, uh, that’s going to have to wait,” John says, and almost absently he shoots a black flame at Solana. She burns. Merle collapses.

They’re home. 

They’re back. 

“Oh hey, hi! You’re back! Sorry about last time, maybe we’ll do better this time around,” John says cheerfully. 

Solana doesn’t feel the same. “Yeah, you got it.”

“Ok, question time!” Merle says, jumping right in. “So, John. Sometimes you say ‘we,’ and sometimes you say ‘I.’ What’s up with that?”

“Oh, another tough one, but I did tell you I’d answer honestly,” John says, surprised and pensive. “Um, I am John, and I am me. I - I was a human. I still am, I suppose, somewhere in here. I’m an experimental theologican. I was one, a successful one, too, if memory serves. And people from around the world would come to hear my research and my discoveries and well, it was great! I would lecture on the pursuit of enlightenment and the broadening of personal horizons and the attainment of freedom. I'm kind of a big picture guy, Merle.

“And I suppose when I say we, I'm talking about everyone in here. Everyone, well, except — oh, this is weird, Merle. I’ve never talked to anybody about this outside. Usually my transactions with other people are adding them to my being, so this is strange.”

He falls quiet for a moment. “What do you call us, Merle, Solana?”

“Is that your question?” Solana says before Merle can answer. John chuckles. 

“No, I suppose it isn’t. Hmm, how about… What does your ship look like?”

“Oh, huh, ok. It’s - actually, wait, I’ll draw you a sketch,” Merle says, rummaging through his pockets for a pen. John produces one, and a crisp blank pad of paper. Merle takes it and begins sketching messily. 

“See, here’s my cabin, and here’s the helm, and here’s where Taako keeps the candy, and where Magnus thinks he could hide a puppy…” He goes through the ship room by room, pointing out the comfy chairs, the best nap spots. John watches raptly, and Solana watches John.

Eventually, though, the ramble comes to an end. John looks up at Merle, beaming. “Thank you, Merle! This is really helpful.”

And then he waves his hand, and there’s more black fire.

When they reform and debrief, Barry puts his face in his hands. “Did you really - hey can you maybe _not_ tell our enemy all our tactical advantages? I’d like what little edge we have, thanks.”

Merle blusters a moment, but Solana speaks up. “You really think we’d do that? That I’d let Merle do that? No.” All eyes are on her. “Yeah, now John knows shit like Magnus is vulnerable to cute fluffy animals. He still has no idea that the bond engine exists, or that we use the Light, or any of that. I’m not stupid.” 

“Thanks for the vote of support, y’all,” Merle laughs, eyes tight. Lucretia puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you for doing this, Merle,” she says quietly. “It can’t be easy.”

“It’s not,” he says bluntly. “It’s… complicated.”

Solana adds, “There’s a lot to think about. It needs to happen. But it’s not…” She sighs. “Well, it’s complicated.”

They make their way back across the ship, back to their rooms. They sit down on the bed, close their eyes, and there they are again.

There John is again, smiling with delight to see them. Merle and Solana don’t smile back. They just look tired. 

“Hey, John?” Solana asks quietly. “How’s about you go first this time?”

He shrugs. “Alright, fair enough. Hmm… well, here’s the elephant in the room, really. You're the ones who’ve been collecting the Light of Creation and getting it away from me, aren’t you?”

“Yup.” Merle is still. 

John sighs. “Hm. I have to say, Merle, that’s pretty vexing. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t do that anymore. I suppose that this is not a plea that you're going to take seriously, but it’s very inconvenient for me.”

“Okay,” Merle says slowly. “Why?”

“Is that your question?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, huh. To explain this-“ He pauses. “Could you tell me what you call us? It’ll make this easier.”

“Nuh-uh.” Merle shakes his head. “It’s my question time now.”

“Alright, fair enough. How should I explain this? No two things can occupy the same space, Merle, but that is exactly what I am. I am a bunch of places in the same place, on top of, and within, and without one another. When I consume a plane, I sort of… absorb it, dissolve it. Its bonds, between person, family, friends, daemons, they… break. I’m sure you know about Dust, and how bonds work - you seem to know quite a lot you’re not saying.” 

He smiles. It’s not a nice smile. “When I absorb a plane, when I shatter those bonds, a huge amount of energy is released. And that alone is enough to sustain me, to rip holes into new planes. Everything about that process betrays the laws of physics and mathematics and arcane interactions, you should know just how hard bonds are to break. It’s been done, but never well, never with any efficiency. And beyond that, to take that energy, to absorb it? That’s nearly impossible, it would require an incredibly powerful focus. A focus, say, like the Light of Creation.”

Solana and Merle are staring in some approximation of horror. They’d had an idea, of course. But to hear it stated plainly like this, like discussing the weather…

He goes on. “I don’t mean to be vain, but I must look beautiful from your perspective. All that energy, those countless rivers of Dust just streaming off of me. It must be a sight to behold. I need that light to accomplish my goals, and when you keep it from me, it is - well, Merle, Solana, it’s... I can’t let it keep happening for much longer.”

And yet again, he kills them. 

Cycles pass, year after year. They stop asking questions for some time, instead playing chess. John is a good strategist, all things considered. He’s aggressive, capturing every piece with brutal efficiency. At first, Merle plays a defensive game, a terrible parody of their life in which he tries to survive, save as many pieces as he can. But over time, he gets better. He starts taking pieces of his own, attacking instead of defending. After a few years, he’s just about on par with John. 

It’s after one of these matches, one where Merle just barely scrapes a win, where John brings back the conversation from years ago. 

“Merle, Solana,” he asks politely, “I really would like to know what you call me.”

Merle laughs. “Well, Taako calls you gauche, but that’s Taako. We call you a lot of things, most of them not very polite. And I call you something completely different now than I did before.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear, but before, was there a name for what I am?” He’s leaning forward, intently curious.

Even-toned, Solana says, “We called you the Hunger.”

He leans back, chuckles a bit. “Huh. Hunger. I kind of like that.”

“Yeah, thought you might,” Merle says. 

“Maybe a little inaccurate,” he muses. “Okay, your turn now, I guess. Any questions?”

Merle puts a hand on Solana’s back, as if to brace himself. “John… are you our friend?”

The smile drops from his face, and there’s a hint of black fire. He stands abruptly, and then he sighs. Turning to face the window out onto the whiteness, he mutters, “What am I doing?”

“To have friendship, Merle, it requires you to... love someone. And, be invested in your shared happiness. And these things, Merle, friendship and love and happiness, they’re- they’re all so… small. In the grand scheme of things, Merle, they last a second. And I just don’t… They’re not even something I have the capacity for anymore.”

He sighs. “What brings you happiness, Merle? I know that the game is over but what- what brings you joy, Merle? Please, just tell me.”

Merle stands, eyes bright. “What brings us joy is… life. I think you can find joy anywhere, in life. I think it’s a conscious choice. I think you choose joy, in life. And no matter how bad things are, no matter how crummy, no matter how dark, no matter how many times some guy named John kills your ass—“ John laughs. Merle continues, unfazed. 

“You find joy. We’ve found joy, honest to God, getting to know you, we’ve found joy playin’ chess with you. I mean, I haven’t enjoyed, you know, getting our asses killed, but we… we find joy whatever we do. We don’t always do things right, and we don’t always do things smart.”

Solana says, quiet but firm, “But whatever we do, we find joy in it. Because, at the end of the day, that’s all you’ve got, the joy you had and the joy you found and the joy you gave other people. The joy you have, together.” 

John thinks for a moment. “I think there was probably a time where I...had joy. Where I experienced fleeting happiness, or...anger, or fear. But god it’s just been so long. That’s gone, now. She’s gone. Merle, I used to spend my days... considering the nature of time and existence, of bonds and life and daemons. Maybe that brought us joy, once, but… unlike everybody else who ever thought about those questions, who ever pondered the meaning of it all, I, and you may find this hard to believe, we solved it, Merle. We saw the fullness of time. We pondered eternity and were the first, and only, to successfully visualize its treacherous arc. You’re a man of the cloth, Merle, certainly you’ve wondered too about what- what awaits our consciousness after death or—“ He chuckles.

“What am I saying? I’ve given a first hand experience, a few times in this very room! Perhaps for some people who think about it there’s nothing but infinite oblivion. The eternal erasure of your consciousness. Or for some it’s eternal life in their God’s glorious kingdom, or eternal cycling through all the inhabitants of their world, all fueled by the power of Dust, by our beliefs and connections in the world. Any of these options, Merle, any of them are just erasure, or contentment, or revival, any of them are fine as abstract concepts. But eternally, Merle, eternally?” 

He laughs bleakly, and looks at Solana with a sad smile. 

“You can’t possibly conceive of the length of eternity, Solana. You won’t need to. But I have. It’s maddening and hopeless, but it’s this burden we’re all saddled with from the moment of our creation, from the moment we find Dust. It’s a finish line that, by its definition, will never arrive. It stretches forever and ever, it’s...too ambivalent to even taunt those trapped behind it. It is the cruel price of existence, Merle, and it is too horrible to bear once you’ve seen it. Existence, Merle, life? Merle? Is horrible. To exist, to live, is horrible, and it’s all intertwined with Dust and daemons.”

Merle sighs. “I don’t think I wanna hang out with you anymore, John. I think we’re gonna take off. And you can continue wallowing in your sadness, and your oblivion, and seeing nothing but the negative, and I’m gonna go on my way. And I’ll tell you what,” he declares, eyes sad, “if we ever meet each other somewhere in infinity, you can apologize to me and tell me you were wrong.”

John doesn’t look sad anymore, just resigned. “I’m sorry you feel that way. You’re the first person who I’ve, sort of, talked about this to who hasn’t listened. There were - everyone listened, Merle. I’m not being hyperbolic. _Every_ person in the world was swayed. I don’t know why you’re different, but everyone else listened. Everything, everyone across our whole plane of existence understood our shared vexation with life? With this chain? We always were going to lose them, watch them fade away as we slip into to the emptiness of eternity. That was a certainty, but this chain of Dust didn’t need to be. And so it wasn’t long before… we chose to change.” 

He gazes off into the distance, as if lost in thought.

“We changed our entire plane into something new altogether. A single, being, fueled by… breaking our chains. Searching for something bigger than this existence, regardless of the cost.” There’s something empty in his eyes. “You call us the Hunger. That’s not entirely inaccurate. Because we are… hungry. But it would be more accurate to simply call us Dissatisfaction, or Ambition. But soon— “ And he raises a hand, full of flame. But it’s not just black this time, the darkness intertwined with threads of light in any color imaginable. “ —You will call us… Ascendant.” 

“I don’t think we will, John,” Solana says sadly. “Thanks for the chess. I don’t know where daemons go after death, that’s true. But wherever it is, I’m going to find your daemon, and I’m going to apologize on your behalf. Goodbye, and also?”

She pauses for a moment, then hisses. “Kiss my ass, you sanctimonious bastard.”

And she’s engulfed in black, black flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "'If light can cross the barrier between the universes, if Dust can, if we can see that city, then we can build a bridge and cross. It needs a phenomenal burst of energy. But I can do it. Somewhere out there is the origin of all the Dust, all the death, the sin, the misery, the destructiveness in the world. Human beings can't see anything without wanting to destroy it, Lyra... And I'm going to destroy it. Death is going to die.'" - Philip Pullman, _The Golden Compass_


	17. astonished her the most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for new friendships, new skills, and some things that have alway been there. It's time for Legato.

Reformation the next cycle is… strange. For a moment, there’s the same anxiety and relief as always - looking around and counting, making sure everyone they love is back. But then, out of nowhere, the ship is struck with a bombardment of sound.

It’s loud, it’s cacophonous, and it must only last about a second. But it feels so much longer, as their brains struggle to process what they’ve just heard. Songs, poems, stories and symphonies had somehow been compressed into an instant and shoved into their minds, and it’s quite a lot to absorb.

Lup staggers, hands on her ears. “What the fuck was _that?!_ ”

“I don’t know, but I’d really like to find out!” Barry is also shaking his head and wincing a bit, but even that can’t dull his enthusiasm for a new magical or scientific mystery. 

So Davenport takes the ship down, and after a few lazy circles settles on the broad lawn of a sprawling complex, perhaps a college campus of a sort? By the time they land, there’s a welcome party forming, headed by an elegant woman with a reddish-brown canine daemon, though even certified dog expert Magnus isn’t sure what it is. 

“Hey! Uh, we come in peace?” Magnus jokes, and Davenport slaps a hand to his forehead. 

“That wasn’t funny the first time, Magnus, and it’s been almost fifty years,” he groans. Straightening, he offers a hand to the woman. “Hello, please pardon my colleague. My name is Captain Davenport, and I am the leader of this crew in an interplanar scientific expedition. May I ask your name and where we now find ourselves?”

It’s an overly formal speech, one he’s had to say too many times before. But better to be overly formal than offer insult - even extending a hand to shake was a risk, as who knows how another culture might interpret that.

But this woman takes his hand and shakes it with a smile. “My name is Chancellor Marlow, head of the Kingdom of Legato, where we are now. Welcome to our plane, I guess - oh, I know some writers who will be just _thrilled_ to ask you questions about that.” 

“It’s a long story,” Davenport says wryly. “Actually, we have a question of our own, if you don’t mind.”

Marlow opens her arms. “Ask away!”

“So, when we entered your plane, there was… a sound, of sorts,” and Zefira proceeds to do her best to explain what they heard. 

Chancellor Marlow actually laughs. “Oh, I know exactly what that was. Don’t worry, it’s not harmful. Actually,” and she checks a clock, “it’d be easier if I just showed you. Follow me?”

So the fourteen travelers follow the Chancellor and her daemon down a winding dirt path, toward the base of a mountain they’d seen upon landing. At its base stands a stage, with hundreds of chairs radiating out in arcs. The chairs are full, and all eyes are focused on the individual on the stage. 

There’s a young man seated at a piano, playing some of the most beautiful music they’ve ever heard. It’s captivating, and any questions the crew may have fall second in priority to listening to this incredible song. But in a few breathtaking moments, the music winds to a close, and the man stands and bows, butterfly daemon resting on his outstretched hand.

But despite being done performing, the man looks incredibly nervous. With shaking hands, he lifts the sheet music from his piano, furling it tight, and walks over toward the mountain. Even with raptor eyesight, Cal and Namar only just now notice the cave at the base of the mountain, and the pedestal that lies before it. Very slowly, as if it’s breakable, the man rests the papers upon the pedestal.

Everything is quiet for a moment, as if the crowd is holding its breath. Chancellor Marlow is muttering encouragements, but to who, they can’t tell. And then- 

There’s a flash of light. The music reverberates from the cave, louder and beautiful than even it seemed before. And yet they don’t hear it, not really - instead, it’s as if it’s being projected straight into their minds and the memories of all around them. It’s astonishing.

And as they stare, Marlow turns to them, beaming. “Well, that’s the Light of Creation!”

There are a lot more questions, after that.

 

An hour later, the crew of the Starblaster sit in a huddle, going over the list of disciplines taught by the Conservatory of Legato. They’d decided upon a plan of action with Marlow’s help. First, the Light of Creation was clearly inside the mountain, and they needed to get it back. Second, apparently, no one could go into the cave. Magnus tried. Third, there’s a legend of a student who was allowed entry after their work was accepted by the Light. So the fourth and final fact: they needed to create art to present to the mountain. Which leaves them here, with a list of possibilities. 

Lucretia and Arun hardly glance at the list, and neither do Davenport and Zefira. Taako and Nym start muttering and wander off, followed by Merle and Solana, and Barry, Lup, Gwynn, and Namar form their own little huddle. Eventually, only Magnus and Calariel are left staring at the list. 

“We don’t do… art,” Cal mumbles. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“We can hit things real good, and we’re good with sharp things, but….” Magnus’s eyes catch on one item of the list. “Actually, I have an idea.”

About a week later, Magnus and Cal find themselves before a kindly old man with an intricately carved cane, a beaver daemon at his side. Their first attempts at woodworking hadn’t quite worked. Their initial professor, a big, burly man with facial hair that put even Magnus’s to shame, had the sort of approach they were thinking of. He set them hacking at logs, attacking the wood until art came out fully formed. But something just wasn’t fitting right, wasn’t the right approach for them, and so he’d handed them off to his colleague, Professor Bower. 

Now, Professor Bower stands before Magnus and hands him a small hunk of wood and a thin, sharp knife. “You know what you need to try, you know what you need to try Magnus? Lil’ bit of tenderness.”

So a few hours later, Magnus sits on the floor of the Starblaster, leaning against the side of a couch. Taako perches on the seat arm next to him with a pile of papers, he and Nym craning their eyes at what Cal and Magnus are doing with their hands (and talons).

After a moment, Taako asks, “So… please tell me you’re not carving a dick or something there, because if that’s your intent I think you’re doing it wrong.”

“It’s not a dick!” Magnus exclaims, scandalized. “This is _clearly_ a duck!”

“Eh, one letter off, we were close,” Nym replies with cheeping laughter. 

Cal glares but there’s no heat behind it. “Well, what’s your project then? I’m thinking edgy free verse poetry or very bad rapping.”

“Nah, we’re better than that,” Taako says, flipping his hair back. “No, what we have here is some fresh, never before seen Taako-and-Nym-TM-TM-TM genius.”

Nym clears her throat, and then dramatically proclaims, “How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something, but to be someone.”

Cal and Magnus stare flatly for a minute, and then Magnus says slowly, “That was Fantasy Coco Chanel.”

Taako scoffs. “Well yeah, you and I know that. But these guys don’t, so it’s time for some intellectual property theft, baby!” 

“Do you think the Light of Creation has a plagiarism detector?” Cal muses. “Some Fantasy Turnitin.com shit?”

“Eh, probably not,” Nym waves a wing. “We’ll be fine. Probably.”

“Do or do not, there is no try?” Magnus asks wryly. Taako smacks him.

“Don’t try to steal my thing, only I get to steal my thing. Besides, that didn’t even make sense, like, contextually!”

Magnus and Cal leave the room, laughing. Taako waits until they’re definitely gone before he scribbles down the quote. 

Months pass, full of scrawled phrases and nicked fingers and paint splashes. But finally, after much of a year, the day has arrived. The fourteen crew of the Starblaster spend the morning bustling around the ship, tying bow ties and zipping dresses and preening feathers just so. And then, once they’re as put-together as they can be, they make their way down to the base of the mountain, where chairs and a stage have been set up in a neat arc. 

There’s a bit of a chatting period beforehand, a time to snack on hors d'oeuvres and rub elbows with other members of the Conservatory. Taako and Nym dazzle a crowd of starry-eyed students, while Merle argues with a ballet professor over twice his height. But eventually voices quiet and all attending meander to their seats, the fourteen family members head up to the front. 

Magnus and Cal are first, escorted by Professor Bower. But as they reach the edge of the stage, Magnus holding the little carved duck in his hands, they stop dead. 

“Is everything alright?” Bower whispers, concerned.

“No, not really!” Magnus hisses, frantic. “Look at this, look at what everyone else has to offer! They’re all like, actually good artists, and we’re - I -“

“We carved a duck,” Calariel says flatly.

Bower claps Magnus firmly on the shoulder, his beaver daemon looking Cal squarely in the eyes. “Yeah, you did. And it’s a _good fucking duck._ So come on, get up there!”

Hesitant, Magnus walks up to the stage, Cal’s talons tight on his shoulder. Facing the crowd, he looks down, and then raises up his creation. 

“It’s not perfect, but - it’s the best we could do.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then the normally reticent Lucretia jumps to her feet, applauding. She starts a chain reaction, first giving the impetus to the rest of their family to clap, shout encouragements, and cheer on their friends. And they’re not alone - others in the crowd have joined them, one person yelling, “‘Ey! Great lil’ mallard, buddy! Keep your chin up!” 

As Magnus blushes, Cal takes the duck in her claws and gently carries it over to the pedestal. There’s a moment of hushed quiet, and then the cheering redoubles as a flash - smaller than normal, but unmistakeable - emanates from the mountain, along with an echo of the heartfelt little duck. Magnus hides a shy smile as he leaves the stage. 

The following performers are Merle and Solana, with their act alarmingly listed on the program as “Interpretive Jazz Dancing.” They make their way up to the stage, and there’s a moment of silence before a strangely jazzy and rhythmic music starts off. It may include a recording of Merle attempting to beatbox, but nobody wants to even entertain the possibility, as that would force them to actually think about that. 

And as the beat starts, Merle and Solana… dance, presumably. It’s certainly _meant_ to be dancing. Merle stands in the center of the stage, hips thrusting and arms dangling and wiggling. Solana stalks in circles around him, head bobbing and beak opening wide to emanate a dissonant metal-on-glass shriek that makes the crowd’s hair stand on end. 

Taako leans over to Lup, whispering, “Holy _shit,_ Solana’s a Fantasy Fantasy Ringwraith.” Lup, rather uncharacteristically, doesn’t respond. Taako glances at her sharply, but she just grips crumpled handfuls of her skirt tightly, eyes locked on the stage.

Thankfully, the dance soon comes to an end, culminating in Merle trying - and not succeeding - to do the worm. But they take their bows, everyone claps politely, and with a flash from the mountain that’s something everyone will have in their brains forever now. 

Thanks, Light.

The following performances are a bit more conventional, but no less astonishing. Davenport, dapper in his scarlet dress uniform, sings a high and echoing opera solo. It’s beautiful and ethereal, and Zefira’s cheeping accompaniment adds a grounding, real note to the piece. They receive a standing ovation and a brilliant flash, and as they leave the stage, it looks like the voice professors try to offer them a permanent job. They politely decline, citing their commitments to the IPRE and not, you know, the fact that in a week or so the plane might be destroyed. 

Taako’s up next. He and Nym stroll jauntily onto the stage, producing their book with a flourish. And then they start what seems like the weirdest stand-up comedy bit ever, except it’s not even comedy. Instead, Taako and Nym spend the next few minutes walking around the stage, gesticulating dramatically, as they trade sayings like arrows back and forth at each other.

“Never limit yourself because of others’ limited imagination; never limit others because of your own limited imagination.”

“No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world.”

“Let us make our future now, and let us make our dreams tomorrow's reality!” Their voices raise and gestures grow more energetic with each stolen saying.

Lucretia, Arun, Magnus, and Cal make a tiny huddle, quietly muttering in an attempt to guess the real origins of the quotes.

“Okay, that was Fantasy Mae Jemison, Fantasy Robin Williams… Fantasy Malala Yousafzai?”

“Yeah, and then Fantasy Tom Bodett?”

“Might’ve been Clint McElroy, actually.”

“Fantasy Clint McElroy?”

“What?”

“Oh, never mind - oh gosh, we’re up!”

As Nym and Taako take their bows, a flash heralding their success, a flustered Lucretia and Arun make their way up to the stage. Once there, Lucretia pulls up a large, covered object, nearly as big as herself, that had been tucked to the side for the whole performance, unnoticed. 

Before uncovering it, she turns to address the crowd. “This is- this _was_ -“ her voice shakes- “Our home. It’s been a while, but, well, I have a pretty good memory, so it should be fairly accurate.”

With a quiet croon, Arun pulls away the covering to display a painting. It’s intricately detailed, showing a warmly lit day in a peaceful market square. People bustle about on errands, chatting and walking their dogs, and it’s a beautiful freeze frame of a quiet, normal day. The Starblaster’s crew take in a sharp breath, though, as they recognize the scene.

This square wasn’t far from the IPRE headquarters. Magnus would sneak out of classes to go pet the dogs, and there’s a little terrier wearing one of his many lost bandanas. Taako and Lup spent many an afternoon cheerfully bartering with the shopkeeps, many of whom are faithfully represented in the painting, down to their usual outfits. On the right, tucked behind some trees, are the little tables where Merle and Davenport would get coffee and chat, and the benches by the fountain are where Lucretia and Barry would quietly sit and read, or write and sketch. It’s a place none of them have dared think about in too long, the pain from the loss first too sharp, and then followed by the fear of tainting precious memories. 

But Lucretia never forgot, never let herself forget. And now, with yet another flash of light, the burden of memory is lifted from her, from the rest of her family, as now there’s at least a piece of their home that, if the worst happens, will not die with them. 

The crowd is already quiet and contemplative as Lup stands, Namar on her shoulder. They’d been secretive, these past few months, about what their performance would be. Taako pried and bothered, as all good siblings would, but Lup wouldn’t budge. Her creation, her practice, whatever it had been, had been undergone in stolen moments, in quiet college rooms and out of the way courtyards. But as she steps up to the stage, Taako realizes this cycle hadn’t been as lonely for her as he’d thought.

Barry Bluejeans and Gwynn step up from the other side of the chairs. There’s a pause, as Lup glances over and their eyes meet, before Taako quite sees what’s going on. But then his sister picks up a violin, and his friend sits down at a piano, and he waits, and he watches.

It’s impossible to capture their story so far in words, fifty years of collaboration and friendship growing into more. As Lup raises her bow, and Barry presses the first key, something fits into place. It’s not the first piece. The first was that moment with the robots, an exchange of trust so profound they hadn’t spoken about it until years later. Or maybe it was the first cycle Lup died, or the first Barry died, where they realized they’d miss them for the rest of the year. Maybe it was that very first cycle, watching everything they knew blacken and die before them, except for six. Or maybe it was something smaller - a quiet moment in the lab, they first time they laughed at the same joke, the first time they defended each other’s research. Maybe it started that first time they shook hands after the announcement, after they learned they would be working together. Maybe it was all of them. 

And as much as isn’t the beginning, it’s also not the end. This isn’t a change, a redefining or a shift. It’s a growth, an addition. They are friends, they are coworkers and teammates and partners in science and crime and pieces of a ramshackle family. They have been for fifty years or more, and nothing can change that. But there’s something - not new, but finally visible. A seed that’s been growing for years, and has just now put up bright shoots aboveground. They are everything they ever were, and now they’re something more, as well. It just took this long to see it.

So they play their song, an intertwining melody that drifts out quiet and clear over the hushed crowd. The people of Legato don’t know Lup, don’t know Barry, don’t know their daemons, not beyond the glimpses and rumors they’ve caught this year. They don’t know their home, their lives, the decades of history they’ve shared. But even the blindest of outsiders can feel the emotion in this piece, the care and love and happiness between the two performers. And those who _do_ know them - it’s so much more.

Finally, the music swells to a brilliant crescendo, and then there’s silence, and a moment of stillness. Then Barry rises to stand next to Lup, and she raises their hands in triumph, then pulls him into a dramatic bow. Gwynn and Namar take to the skies, circling the stage and their partners and the now erupting cheers, as blinding light emits from the mountain, followed by the loudest re-transmission yet.

And Barry and Lup look at each other, grinning fit to burst and laughing from the sheer joy of it all. And they glance down at their hands, still clasped. But they don’t let go. And they keep not letting go. 

And Lup says, “Barry, do you wanna go talk somewhere for a while?”

And Barry grins back, with a quiet and wholehearted, “Yeah.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur, a wonderful and hectic celebration. Tomorrow, they continue their search, they enter the cave to seek the Light of Creation. But that’s tomorrow.

Or it’s supposed to be, anyway. But that night, Magnus tosses and turns, anxious and not sure why. Eventually, he realizes sleep isn’t going to come.. So, picking up a drowsy Cal, he leaves their quarters to go for a midnight jog. 

Calariel soaring high above, taking advantage of the open skies, they eventually wander down to the submission area. The moon casts odd shadows through the trees and rocks, giving the entire area an otherworldly glow. Or they think it’s the moon, anyway - but then light starts coming from the cave, deep in shadow. Cal, not one for caution, immediately swoops in to investigate, and as Magnus runs after her he hears her draw in a sharp breath. As he catches up, he does much the same. 

It’s a jellyfish, kind of, but not like any Cal or Magnus have seen before. Its cap, maybe two feet across, gleams blue and purple, projecting ripples of watery color on the cave’s walls. But its long, ribbonlike tendrils are a bright, starlight white, flickering the same color that flashes when a work is accepted.

Also, it’s flying, so there’s that. 

“Whoa,” Magnus breathes, and unthinking he reaches out a hand. The jellyfish darts back a foot, out of reach, but not in a scared way. It’s almost as if… it’s playing? It lets out a string of bright, ringing notes, like a wind chime or a xylophone, and then with a quick flash it darts back into the cave. Magnus and Cal follow, of course.

They wind through a twisting cavern, illuminated by multicolored crystals emerging from the walls. Ahead of them, the jellyfish stays just out of sight, a flash of light and echoing chime the only clues of where to follow. And along the way, they pass dozens of other cave jellyfish. These ones are much bigger, ten feet across at least, but they seem uninterested in their strange new visitors. 

Eventually, they reach a small nook in the rock, where their new glowing friend has stopped. There’s a bed of moss, surrounded by a scattering of strange items - glass bottles, some gems, little bright trinkets. And the jellyfish picks one item up in its tendrils, singing a jaunty little tune, and Magnus and Cal stare.

“That is… our duck,” Cal says blankly. 

The jellyfish - lightfish? voidfish? yeah, let’s go with that - the Voidfish lets out more song, bouncing a little as it does. And then, it takes some pieces of loose moss and starts shaping it into what is unmistakably another duck. 

“Do you- should we- are you asking us to make another?” Magnus asks. The Voidfish glows brighter, ringing notes louder. 

“We don’t have wood, or tools, or any of that with us…” Cal starts, but as the Voidfish dims she hurriedly adds, “But we can get some!”

The Voidfish chimes again, and settles down on the bed of moss, holding the little duck tight. Baffled, Cal and Magnus take that as their cue to leave.

They spend this time wandering, exploring this cave as they’ve been waiting to do this whole year. But as they search, as they look at cavern after empty cavern, Magnus thinks about the brilliant white of the Voidfish and the light, and a horrible weight of realization forms. 

“Cal… I don’t think they have the Light,” he murmurs, chest tight. “I think that what we’ve been watching is just the Voidfish, by themselves. It’s not here.”

Cal is silent for a moment, and then shouts “FUCK!” so loud that it echoes through the cave, and is met with annoyed and dissonant chimes. Ignoring that, Magnus and Cal share a glance, and then Magnus _runs. ___

__Magnus sprints back to their quarters as a soft pink and gold glow starts to light the sky. Frantically, he shakes all his friends awake and pulls them into their communal space to talk._ _

__Lup rubs her eyes and yawns. “Where’s the fire, big guy?”_ _

__“The cave, I guess. Or not really, and that’s the problem,” Magnus babbles. His friends just look confused._ _

__Cal sighs. “We went into the mountain. The very short version? The Light of Creation isn’t fucking there, and we only have nine days left to find it.”_ _

__Instant uproar. Davenport, moments ago yawning, grabs Barry and sprints for the Starblaster, daemons flying behind. He shouts back over his shoulder, “We’ll run an aerial search, we have to get started NOW!”_ _

__Lup stands. “Okay, that leaves us on the ground search. If we work in pairs-“_ _

__Taako stands, Nym at his side. “Actually,” the killdeer daemon says, “I think we have a better idea.”_ _

__Two hours later, Taako and Nym stand on the stage of a massive concert hall, the largest Legato has. Before them sits thousands of people and daemons, residents of Legato who aren’t quite sure why they’re up so early, but trust Taako’s obvious wisdom enough to hear what he has to say._ _

__“Alright, listen up,” he starts. “We’ve got a problem. This city, this planet - currently, we’re all fucked. I cannot even begin to emphasize how fucked we are, and I’m pretty damn good with words, so that should give you a clue.”_ _

__Nervous mutters emerge from the crowd, and Nym takes over. “But guess what? We still have time to un-fuck this. There is- an item, a thingamabob, this big white glowy ball. Believe me, you’ll know it when you see it. It’s somewhere in this world, and we don’t know where. But that is- finding that Light is this plane’s last hope. We _have_ to find it.” _ _

__Taako, again. “Yeah, this is scary as shit. But if you help us find it, we can do this. Normally we don’t enlist people, but here’s something I know about you all. You currently have the most inspirational shit mankind - and by mankind I mean me - has ever written, in your heads held simultaneously. You motherfuckers believe in yourselves probably more than any group that has ever been assembled in all of human history. Correct?”_ _

__Cheers break out from the audience, and Taako plasters a fake smile across his face. “Thought so.”_ _

__Taako picks up Nym, holding her close to the mic. “Get your friends together, get horses, boats, anything fast because we have a lot of ground to cover. But we know you can do this. If we work our asses off, just go wild over these next few days, we can do this. We can save ourselves. This is a scavenger hunt for our very survival, now get out there and look!” she cries, and with uproarious cheering the auditorium empties, students and teacher and daemons racing out to find the Light._ _

__Taako and Nym stand there for a moment, somber. “You really think they can do this?” Taako asks quietly._ _

__Nym closes her eyes. “I think we have a duty to give them the best chance we can.” It’s not an answer._ _

__And so for the next few days, a tireless search party scours the world. They look in every nook and cranny of the world, places no one knew existed before that day. And they do find things - a white crystal that sings, a Voidfish egg, a bottle of starlight. But they don’t find the Light._ _

__When a few days have gone by, and his students bring him a glowing golden apple, Taako fakes a smile. “That’s it, you’ve found it!” he cries, a twist in his chest. “Congrats, y’all, I’m proud of you. Now, I want you to take the rest of the week off, okay? Party it up, celebrate, don’t even worry about anything. You did good.”_ _

__They don’t give up, of course they don’t - the crew of the Starblaster have seen too many worlds die to abandon this one to its fate. But there’s only a few days left, and they’re running out of options._ _

__In quiet moments, breaks from the search, Magnus visits the little Voidfish. He brings more ducks, and stories, and Lucretia. She sits next to Magnus as he and the Voidfish play, drawing and writing as Arun paddles around in the small pools in the cave. And on one of these visits, watching Lucretia set down her paper and pen and hike up her skirts to wade after the Voidfish as they play, Magnus makes a decision._ _

__Two days later, the Hunger attacks. It’s early, too early, and there’s no warning before a massive black tendril slams down on the Legato Conservatory, smashing one of the smaller concert halls to bits. Pandemonium erupts, and the crew of the Starblaster get ready to run, but then Magnus grabs Lup’s arm._ _

__“Lup,” he says firmly, “don’t let them leave without us.”_ _

__She chokes out a strangled laugh. “Magnus, it’s the- it’s the Hunger, we have to _go_ , it’s-“_ _

__“Remember the robots?” Cal asks, voice grave. “We have to do the right thing. Don’t let them leave.”_ _

__Lup and Namar close their eyes for a second, then nod decisively. “We’ll buy you some time.”_ _

__And with that, Lup sprints at the Hunger’s tendrils, fire shooting from her hands and Namar’s talons slashing at anything he can reach._ _

__Magnus and Cal race for the cave. Rocks are falling around them and terrified, dissonant trills ring out around the cave, but they don’t stop until they reach the little mossy nook where they’ve spent so much time this week. And it’s there, almost like it’s waiting - the baby Voidfish, tendrils curled around the duck and its whole body shaking. Without stopping, Magnus scoops it up in his arms and sprints out of the cave._ _

__They run back to the Starblaster, as if their life depended on it - but not quite. If they die, if the Hunger catches them, that’s fine. They’ll come back, they’ve done it before. But that’s not true for the Voidfish._ _

__So they run because its life depends on them._ _

__They reach the Starblaster just as it’s starting to take off, gangplank barely touching the ground. Lup is up on the deck, clearing their way, but Lucretia stands in the door, blasting a path for Magnus. He barrels up to the ship, Lucretia neatly dodging as he dives through the door yelling “Go, go, go!”_ _

__Not needing any other encouragement, Davenport takes off, the ship rocketing up toward the rift in the sky. Magnus clutches the Voidfish tight, eyes shut. He doesn’t know if this will work. It hasn’t before. But he had to try. So as the ship feels like it’ll shake apart, he holds his newfound friend close and hopes, hopes that it was worth it, that they can save just one person, do one good thing._ _

__And when they reform, when the light fades, the Voidfish is still there._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “She had never dreamed of what it would feel like to love someone so much; of all the things that had astonished her in her adventures, that was what astonished her the most." - Philip Pullman, _The Amber Spyglass_


End file.
